


A Depraved Magical Menagerie

by positivelyshameful



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Bestiality, Descriptive Birth Scenes, F/F, F/M, Forced Pregnancy, Knotting, Lactation Kink, M/M, Male Lactation, Mpreg, Multi, Non-Consensual Body Modification, Not Canon Compliant, Other, Tentacles, potions made them do it
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-07-24
Updated: 2016-09-11
Packaged: 2018-07-26 13:24:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 8
Words: 35,859
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7575634
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/positivelyshameful/pseuds/positivelyshameful
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The War in Britain is over, and the Light lost. After capturing the Golden Trio, Voldemort decides to use them to seal alliances with various magical beasts, reward his loyalest followers, and give everyone some ill-deserved entertainment...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Hafgufa

**Author's Note:**

> This is without a doubt the most disgusting thing I've ever written (which is why I made another account to post it under). Please heed the tags and warnings and decide if my sins are the sins for you. I plan to post a chapter every week and will add to the tags as necessary.
> 
> Honestly you probably shouldn't read this, but if you do I hope you enjoy it. Don't hesitate to leave me a comment, and although I'm pretty far into this thing (7 chapters so far) you're more than welcome to leave ideas for later chapters. If the idea is to stop, trust me, I tried. I started this nastiness last September and have finally given up on stopping.
> 
> So, you know, tried to go home but since I can't I've decided to go hard. :)
> 
> EDIT: So would like to add that all of the characters in this story are over 18. Not that they, y'know, are able to give their consent, but they are of the age to do so.

Harry woke to an unbearable ache in his shoulders. His wrists were bound above his head to a large hook chained to the ceiling. His feet barely brushed the floor. Ron and Hermione hung on either side of him, both unconscious.

He hissed and squinted as a light came on, shining down on him like a spotlight. With the light came the realization that he and the others were naked but for the light sheen of sweat, dirt, and grime covering their bodies.

 “Finally awake,” said a voice from somewhere in the darkness of the room. A familiar voice, cruel and delighted in its cruelty.

A handsome man stepped out of the shadows, unrecognizable but for the resemblance to the boy Harry had seen over five years before in the dank chamber beneath Moaning Myrtle’s bathroom.

 “Do you like it?” Voldemort asked, running a hand over his own face. “One of my Death Eaters worked tirelessly to create a potion to fully restore me to my former glory. Now that you and your little friends are finally in my grasp, the last of the resistance is all but gone. I decided this face would be more attractive to my new world.”

 “There will always be a resistance,” Harry said, jerking at the chains. The movement only served to send him wobbling around like a fish on a hook.

 “And I will so enjoy destroying every last bit of it.” Voldemort smiled, the expression no less terrifying than when it was worn by a more serpentine visage. “For now, though, I will see to you and your little friends. They’ll wake shortly, but that’s no reason for us to wait.”

Voldemort waved a hand at the covered table next to him. He grasped the cloth and pulled it off to reveal five vials of potions, three purple and two blue.

Voldemort ran a covetous hand over the vials. “My loyal follower created these, too, just for you and your friends. And we’ll start with this.”

Voldemort picked up one of the blue potions and came to Harry’s side. Grabbed Harry’s face and shoved his head back, nails digging into Harry’s cheeks until his mouth was forced open. The potion stung as it was poured in. He coughed, tongue struggling to keep the liquid from going down his throat. Voldemort put a hand over his mouth, pinching his nose closed until he had to swallow.

Harry screamed. His innards boiled as if Voldemort had poured lava into him; stretched like they’d been put on a torture rack; twisted up like they’d been shaken loose and left to settle where they would.

He was barely aware of Ron and Hermione jerking awake beside him, or of Voldemort forcing the other blue potion into Ron.

It felt like hours before his guts stopped roiling inside of him. His face was drenched in tears and sweat. His throat sore from yelling. An arm dislocated from writhing. Sobbing, he shifted as much as he could so his other arm took more of his weight.

 “What did you do to them?” Hermione asked, voice hoarse as if she too had been screaming.

 “That will be obvious in time.” Voldemort picked up his wand and waved it at Harry, who cried out as his arm righted itself. Another wave and more lights came on, revealing them to be next to a large expanse of water. “Until then, I would like you to meet a special new ally of mine. He will be in charge of protecting the waters surrounding my new stronghold.”

 “Stronghold?” Hermione asked.

“Hogwarts.” Voldemort’s smile widened. “Or what was once Hogwarts. My Death Eaters have been hard at work stripping it bare, banishing the ghosts and other unwanted guests and reworking its magic to recognize me as its lord and master.”

“Are we.” Harry coughed, his entire body aching with it. “Are we in the Chamber of Secrets?”

“That’s what it once was, yes,” Voldemort said. “Now it is my ally’s home, connected to the moat and lake.”

“The giant squid is your new ally?” Ron asked, incredulous.

“The giant squid is dead.” Voldemort motioned at the water as a tentacle breached it. “And this is the kraken that killed it.”

“Great Merlin’s beard,” Ron said.

Voldemort hummed, sweeping up one of the three remaining vials. “As part of the kraken’s reward, I am giving you three to it for now.”

“What?” Hermione’s voice was a shrill screech. “You—”

“A volunteer,” Voldemort cut her off. Shoved the potion into her mouth. She went limp.

Ron yelled her name and jerked forward. Snarled when the chains kept him from reaching her.

With a flick of Voldemort’s wand she fell free of the shackles and into his arms. His expression twisted into something dark and malicious as she pressed her flushed body closer to him, panting for air. “And I see the potion is quick to work.”

He said something else, a spell, and then shoved her toward the pool. The tentacle snatched her out of the air and pulled her beneath the water’s surface.

“Hermione,” Harry and Ron said, struggling to get to the water.

“Don’t be so eager, boys, you’ll join her soon enough. I’ll let you watch for a bit, first, I think. So you’ll see what’s to come.” Voldemort waved his wand again. The floor beneath them shifted and sank, their chains lengthening to keep them positioned at relatively the same height from the ground.

A huge glass wall separated them from the water as they sank lower and lower. When they stopped, more lights came on.

The kraken was a huge mass of constantly undulating tentacles colored like blood, differing in size from thin as a finger to thick as a tree. Its body took up most of the pool, some of its tentacles pressed against the glass and floor as if anchoring it.

Other tentacles held Hermione in perfect view of where they stood. Her mouth was open but no bubbles escaped it. Delicate gills fluttered against her neck. Her body jerked as two tentacles wrapped around her ankles, spreading her legs wide.

A thinner tentacle, perhaps the size of Harry’s wrist, caressed her face. It ended in a strange mushroom shape rather than a tapered tip like the others holding and surrounding her. Her eyelids drooped as the tentacle dipped between her lips.

“Bloody hell,” Ron said as the tentacle pulled out of her mouth, her tongue licking after it.

The tentacle slowly made its way down her body. Stopped at the precipice of her cunt and traced along its edges. She jerked in its grasp, her legs spreading further apart. The tentacle wriggled into her. She continued to move, struggling not to make it stop but rather to move faster, push deeper.

Her mouth fell open as another tentacle circled around and caressed her arse. It teased her puckered hole. She sucked her bottom lip into her mouth. It breached her. Bubbles flew out of her mouth and she shuddered. Her body arched as she orgasmed. The tentacles continued fucking her. Another attached its suckers to her nipples, pinching and releasing in a nonsensical rhythm.

Harry wrenched his eyes away when Ron shouted next to him. Had no time to even attempt to help. Voldemort’s hand was already over Ron’s mouth and nose, empty vial shattering on the floor.

Ron went limp just as Hermione had. His body flushed bright red under the smears of dirt. His cock hardened, straining up toward his stomach.

Voldemort said something and the shackles released.

A tentacle caught Ron before he could fall to the floor. Wrapped around his stomach. Lifted him up and over the wall into the pool. Curled past his cock through his legs. Slithered into his arse without any preamble.

Ron cried out, hips jerking. The tentacle pressed him against the glass in front of Harry. Ron’s head fell back to reveal the pale column of his neck. A small tentacle traced it. Moved lower and lower. Coiled around his cock and began to constrict and loosen around it at random intervals.

Ron put his hands and knees on the glass. Pressed back into the tentacle in his arse. Let it push him forward into the one on his cock. The back and forth became frantic. His body went tense, jizz clouding the water in spurts. He was still coming when the kraken turned him around. The tentacle in his arse continued thrusting in and out of him. His cheeks clenched at it.

The shadow of movement in the glass made Harry look away—too late. Voldemort grabbed his face again and poured the potion down his throat. His body was relaxed and drooping before the vial was even empty.

The heat started deep in his stomach. Spread throughout his body until all he could feel was burning desire. His cock filled with blood, hips searching for the slightest bit of friction. His hole spasmed and a slick substance trickled down his thighs.

Once more, tentacles rose out of the water, swiftly grasping him as he fell from the chains. Pulled him up over the wall and into the pool. The water was a cold shock, and he took a deep breath before he could stop himself. Instead of drowning he found that he, too, had grown gills.

The kraken positioned him so his stomach faced up. Pushed his legs apart and shoved a tentacle into him. The fullness of it was exquisite, satisfying a need he only recognized as it was met. It pulled out, the mushroom tip catching on his rim before being thrust back into him. More tentacles circled him. One slipped into his gaping mouth. Another wrapped around his cock, squeezing and releasing in turns.

Pleasure coiled in his belly. Tightened into something that made him push back onto the tentacle in his arse. With a shout muffled by the tentacle fucking his throat, he came into the water. He clamped down, yelling again as the tentacles began to piston into him harder. Finally they went rigid. The one in his mouth spurted a sweet, viscous liquid into him that he gulped down.

He was still burning in spite of his orgasm. As if in answer to the desperate need already filling his cock back up, the tentacles once again began to move. A smaller tentacle inched into his arse beside the other. Curled up against something that made his entire body light up, stars bursting in his vision as he came again. Without pausing, his legs were pressed further apart and a third tentacle joined the others. The tentacle in his mouth filled it with the same sweet substance again before pulling out.

His gills fluttered, gasping for air. His eyes stung. His jaw throbbed. But he felt so good, so full, and his cock was still hard, balls drawing up tight even though he’d already come twice.

The third time he came, he blacked out.

~*~

Harry awoke the second time to an ache that engulfed his entire body.

“’Mione,” he said, looking around blearily. “Ron?”

“’Ere, Harry,” Ron said somewhere to his left. “Hermione’s still asleep on my other side.”

He shifted. Whimpered as the ache turned into a searing pain that started at his arse but shot all the way through him. He let himself sink back into the bed. “It really happened.”

“Yeah.” There was a soft click, and a dim light turned on. Ron’s blurry face swam into focus. “Reckon it’ll happen again, too.”

“We’ll get out of this,” Harry said. Slowly reached over and pulled on his glasses. There was a small crack in the bottom of one of the lenses, but they were otherwise fine. “We always get out—”

“Not this time, Harry.” Ron held up a shackled ankle and shrugged. “Our wands are shattered in the corner over there; you can see bits of fluff left from the phoenix feather in yours.”

Harry hissed, hunching forward as he wrapped his arms around his throbbing stomach.

“You, too?” Ron asked. “Like needles, yeah? Mine keeps doing the same thing.”

“And mine.” Hermione sat up. “I think it’s because of the kraken’s…ah, copious excretions. I think our intestines might be blocked or, or bursting.”

“So we’re dying because we got fucked by a giant mythical octopus?” Ron asked.

“Not so mythical,” Harry said, rubbing his middle. He felt full, his stomach hard and a little bloated. “And I don’t think Voldemort would let us die this soon.”

“Well, something’s wrong with—oh!” Hermione curled in on herself.

Harry clambered out of his bed and over to Ron’s, as far as the chain on his ankle could reach. “Come on, Hermione. We’ll die, or, or whatever we’re doing together, yeah?”

She let out a soft sob in answer, but crawled over as soon as the pain had passed. Ron pulled her into his arms, tucking her head under his chin. Harry put an arm and leg over both of them. Buried his face into Ron’s hair.

They fell into a fitful sleep clutching tight to one another through the pain and pretending not to notice each other crying.

~*~

“How are we getting fat?” Ron poked the firm swell of his stomach. “We don’t get more than a few pieces of bread and cheese a day; we should be counting our ribs.”

“Probably enchanted,” Hermione said, drinking the last of the water.

Harry gave the bread in his hand a dark look. “He’s not going to let us die of starvation, either.”

But their bellies rounded out in spite of their sparse meals.

“There’s no way bread and cheese is doing this to us, enchanted or not,” Ron said, not for the first time. The skin of his stomach was stretched taut over a bulge the size of a quaffle. “It’s only been two bloody months.”

The other two were nearly the same size. No longer able to curl up, they lay pressed close together on their backs, hands intertwined.

“We know, Ron.” Hermione ran her free hand over her belly, fingers outlining the strange divots that made it look like she had swallowed a load of fist-sized rocks. She let out a shaky sigh. “You know as well as I do what he’s done to us. Or, or what the kraken’s done to us.”

Harry opened his mouth to say something. Cried out as an intense pain shot through his stomach.

“Harry?” Hermione said, struggling to sit up. “Harry, what is it? What’s happening?”

He shook his head, unable to speak as the pain continued. Gasped for air when it finally abated.

“Something is really, really wrong,” he wheezed. More pain ripped through him.

The door was thrown open as if in answer to Ron and Hermione’s shouts for help.

“Finally,” Voldemort said. With a swift flick of his wand their shackles fell off. Another sent Harry and Hermione back to their own beds.

Harry heard Hermione scream. Forced himself to look over. He couldn’t see her. Ron’s face was white, mouth hanging open, hands clenching his stomach.

“Come on, then, up. Up, I said.” Voldemort rolled Harry over and pushed him to his knees, ignoring his continued cries. Did the same to Ron and Hermione. One by one, he pulled their arms up to grasp the poles of their headboards. Shoved a strip of leather into each of their mouths, and put buckets of water next to each of their beds.

The pain grew worse and worse, with less time between one gut-wrenching twinge and the next. Harry began to feel pressure at the base of his spine. An overwhelming urge built along with the pressure, as if his body was trying to excrete something.

“When you feel the need to bear down, do yourself a favor and push,” Voldemort said, surveying them as he put on a pair of gloves.

The command seemed to be what Harry’s body was waiting on. His stomach clenched with the worst pain yet. Knuckles went white around the bars. Teeth clamped down on the leather as his body strained to rid itself of whatever was causing its agony.

His hole stretched, the pain worsening with every centimeter. A large orb passed through his sphincter at an excruciatingly slow pace. It fell to the bed. He panted for air as the pressure in his arse eased. Vision blurry, snot and tears streaming down his face, he watched Voldemort pick the orb up and place it into the bucket of water.

The pain returned. He screamed as his body expelled a second orb and then a third. His head fell to his sweat-drenched pillow as a fourth dropped into Voldemort’s waiting hands.

With the fifth, his body gave out. Trembling, he drooped to one side. Choked back a sob as his stomach twisted with pain again. Voldemort lifted him back to his knees. Placed one hand at the base of his back, the other on the swell of his stomach, and pushed. The burn in his arse intensified, worse than it had been for any of the others. The tang of blood filled his nose.

Half delirious, he saw Voldemort drop a sixth orb into the bucket. Voldemort then went out of sight to Hermione’s bed; Harry heard three splashes in between her screaming, finally ending with a ragged sigh of relief.

Voldemort came back into his field of vision, blocking Ron’s quivering form from view.

Harry blacked out to the sound of Ron screaming.

~*~

Three glasses of stale water sat on his bedside table when he regained consciousness. He guzzled the first two before even attempting to crawl into Ron’s bed. Hermione joined them a few minutes later.

There was no sign of blood, sweat, or any other bodily fluids on them or anywhere else. Nor was there any sign of Voldemort or the buckets. The pudgy lump of their stomachs was all that remained of the ordeal.

“Do you think we’ll have to do it again?” Hermione asked, her voice a trembling whisper. She sniffled, knuckles white as she squeezed Harry and Ron’s hands. “I can’t. If he makes us do it again I’ll—”

“You’ll what, mudblood?” Voldemort asked as he swept into the room. “Nothing. Because if you try, I assure you being the kraken’s breeder will seem a sweet dream.”

“B-breeder?” Harry asked. “So those, those things were, were—”

“Eggs,” Voldemort said. “Seventeen, total. The kraken is very pleased. There are no females left, you see. You’ve saved its species where you couldn’t save anyone else.” He sneered. “Congratulations.”

“And will we?” Hermione asked, breathing faster. “Will we have to do that again?”

“Not for the kraken, no. But I have other allies who are quite pleased with this particular provision in our alliance.” Voldemort watched as his words sank in, and laughed when they started to cry. “Even some creatures that would not, I suspect, have allied with me otherwise. It’s them you’ll play broodmares to next.”

“Who?” Ron asked.

“What?” Hermione corrected with a moan.

Voldemort held up a yellow potion, lips stretching into a thin, wicked smile. “Broodmares.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The 'Hafgufa' is a creature from Örvar-Oddr, an Old Icelandic saga, which is supposedly a kraken (according to Wikipedia, anyway).


	2. The Pastoral Symphony

Voldemort held his wand to Hermione’s throat, his other hand tangled tight in her hair. “Drink them, or her disgusting blood will taint the potions.”

Harry and Ron exchanged a glance. Reached for two of the three yellow potions on the table next to Voldemort and Hermione at the same time.

Harry took a deep breath, pinched his nose, and downed it. Ron did the same.

Voldemort shoved Hermione away from himself, wand staying trained on her until she drank the last potion. With a vicious sneer, he swept out of the room.

Harry shivered. His body tingled. Sweat broke out along his forehead. His stomach lurched as if someone had sucker punched him. He tumbled to the ground. Landed his hands and knees, gasping for air.

Something hard pierced through the skin on either side of his pelvis. He looked down. Two grotesque limbs jutted out of him. They resembled the forelegs of a horse. Grew and grew until they were on the ground in front of him. Pushed him up, forcing his back to arch at its base until his torso was perpendicular to his arse and legs.

He fell to his side as the base of his spine stretched. His legs twisted and changed. Toes fused together and hardened. Bone and muscle and flesh grew from the long stretch of his spine between the two sets of legs. Short, jet black hair sprouted all over his body below his torso.

Again he felt a piercing sensation, this time at the base of his spine. He looked back. Long, coarse hair was growing out of the top of his arse to create a tail.

His body went lax. He made no move to stand, panting and shuddering through the weak aftershocks of the change. Listened to Ron and Hermione finish their own violent transformations.

Shakily, he pushed himself up. Stood on his new legs, arms held out for balance. His tail flicked against his side.

“Bloody hell,” Ron rasped out, legs kicking weakly. Harry helped him to his feet—hooves?—and then, once they were no longer in danger of toppling over, they both helped Hermione up.

“Broodmares,” Hermione said miserably. “They’re giving us to the centaurs.”

“Can’t believe they actually agreed to team up with Voldemort,” Harry said, twisting around so he could survey his new body.

Ron snorted. “Stars probably lined up just right. Mars inside Jupiter means centaurs and Dark Lords are allies, or some hogwash.”

“Also apparently means my cock is gone.” Harry glared at the space between his back legs, nose scrunched up. “Not even a horse cock.”

“Because we’re broodmares, Harry,” Hermione said, hugging herself. “You don’t need a horse cock to give birth, you need a horse cunt. Which you now have.”

His tail flicked again, one of his front hooves stomping the ground. His hands balled up into fists as the door opened.

“Come along,” Voldemort said. Held up his wand when Harry started towards him. “Ah, ah, I almost forgot.” He pointed the wand at Harry’s legs. Let out an ugly laugh as Harry stumbled on hobbled legs. A rope tied itself around Harry’s hands.

Voldemort did the same to Ron and Hermione, though Hermione kept her bound arms over her bare chest.

He forced them all to shuffle out of the room. Led them outside and into a clearing at the edge of the Forbidden Forest.

Three huge stallions stood waiting for them, faces twisted into deep scowls.

“If not for the stars’ foretelling we would not deign touch such mockeries of the centaur body,” said one of them, broad nose wrinkling at the sight of them. He stood slightly taller than the other two, his mane and coat a dappled gray.

“But great Jupiter foresaw our coupling with these creatures,” said another, lean and muscled, colored like a shiny new knut.

The last, with skin nearly as dark as his hide, put a comforting hand on Hermione’s shoulder. Turned bright brown eyes on Voldemort. “We shall return them to your care after they have borne our progeny.”

“And here are the potions you’ll need for that.” Voldemort handed three vials of a familiar purple potion to the first centaur, either ignoring or not noticing the way his nostrils flared as he took them.

“Do not enter the Forest,” the second centaur said. “We will not tolerate any attempts to spy on our herd, regardless of whatever alliance the elders have entered into with you.”

Voldemort flicked their restraints away, inclining his head at the centaurs. “I look forward to greeting your offspring.”

“You will not,” the second centaur said, and herded the trio into the Forest without another word.

~*~

“I am Phaenon,” said the copper-coated stallion. He waved a hand at the dapple, who gave them a curt nod. “This is Wrybios, and that is Aresor.”

Wrybios cast the potions in his hand a disdainful look and said, “We will not force these potions on you.”

Aresor frowned at him. Addressing Hermione, whose arm he still held, he said, “But the Dark Lord assured us our coupling would go more smoothly if you drink them.”

“Do we.” Ron cleared his throat. “Do we have to couple? We could just—”

“The planets have aligned just so,” Aresor said, voice soft and apologetic.

“The war was not kind to our young,” Phaenon said. “The stars tell us you three will produce strong foals; necessary additions to our herd.”

“A fine excuse to live up to your mythos. Centaurs have been known throughout history by the title of rapist,” Hermione said, fierce in spite of the tears shining in her eyes.

“As have humans.” Wrybios spat at her. Held up the potions as if to throw them. “Suffer, then.”

“Don’t,” said Phaenon, staying the other’s hand. “Please. None are pleased with this arrangement; let us not worsen it.”

Harry clenched his jaw for a moment. Held out a hand, eyes downcast. “I’ll take it.”

“Yeah,” Ron said. Took the remaining two and shoved one into Hermione’s hands.

Squeezing his eyes shut, Harry knocked the potion back. Gave a thought, at the last second, to the fact he was still next to the others.

Too late. He shivered as heat flared through his body; pooled in his gut. His tail rose out of the way of his opening. He let out a pleased moan when one of the centaurs mounted him, wet cock sliding against and past his hole clumsily before realigning and pushing in. One slow thrust, two, and it was fully sheathed within him. It was wide where the kraken’s tentacles were long, and Harry’s hole stretched deliciously to accommodate it.

Their skin slapped together with an obscene sound. Harry’s body produced even more slick than before, equine thighs soaked with it. When he came, he could feel the pulses of Phaenon’s release inside him, his body eagerly milking every last drop. Some of it leaked out around Phaenon’s cock, but Phaenon continued coming for a while longer before slumping to one side.

Panting, Harry looked around the clearing. Bit his lip at the sight of Aresor fucking into Hermione, her breasts bouncing with every thrust. Ron’s upper half was against a boulder; he used it to push back onto Wrybios’ cock.

Harry clamped down around Phaenon as much as he could with orgasm-loosened muscles. Smiled when he felt Phaenon harden again. Phaenon’s hips jerked, quickly regaining momentum.

Harry arched his back, moaning when Phaenon’s hands came to rest on his shoulders; slid forward to pinch and pull at his sensitive nipples, sending sparks of pleasure throughout his body. Phaenon bent over and put his lips next to Harry’s ear.

“I cannot wait until you are heavy with my foal,” he said between grunts and gasps for air. “You will swell so prettily, little human. And the hormones will ensure you continue to hunger for my cock even when you are ready to burst. You will take it, yes?”

“Yes, always. Again. More.” Harry cried out when Phaenon bit his shoulder. The pain pushed him over the edge and he shuddered as his channel tightened around Phaenon’s cock.

Phaenon’s completion did not follow. Instead the lithe centaur groaned and fucked harder until Harry orgasmed a third time.

Phaenon thrust even further inside of Harry, hips flush against Harry’s as he came.

~*~

The heat faded with the rising of the sun.

Wrybios dismounted Ron and made a face at all of them. Turned and started off into the woods. Phaenon followed close behind. Aresor exchanged a glance with Harry, Ron, and Hermione before waving at them to follow. They did, pushing through the undergrowth until they found themselves at the edge of a gently flowing river.

“Are there robes?” Hermione asked, keeping one arm over her breasts as she used the other to clean herself off.

“Our kind are not shamed by our naked bodies,” Aresor said. He stayed close to her even though the other two had immediately put distance between themselves, Harry, and Ron.

Hermione huffed. “We, as you continuously point out, are not centaurs.”

“But Voldemort gave you a centaur’s body. You carry a centaur’s seed, and will stay with a centaur herd until such time as that seed bears fruit. So you will honor centaur tradition and not hide yourself from sight.” Wrybios curled his lip at her. “As if we did not see it all while you begged for Aresor’s cock.”

“As if you wouldn’t have begged for Ron’s hole if he hadn’t been drugged to offer it to you,” she hissed.

“Stop it, both of you,” Phaenon said.

“No use telling her to stop, mate,” Ron said. “She’ll argue until her face turns blue, that one.”

“Do not call us mate,” Wrybios said. “No human will ever earn such a title.”

“Like he’d want to be yours,” Hermione said. “Besides, he didn’t mean mate like you mean it. To us, mate means friend.”

Aresor laughed. “He knows.”

~*~

“How,” Harry said, choking on the word as Phaenon’s cock hit a particularly sweet spot inside of him. “How long will we be pregnant?”

“Hush, now. Questions later,” Phaenon said.

“Ah,” Harry said. Said it again and again as Phaenon’s thrusts grew more frantic. He bent over the log Phaenon had brought him to for their latest coupling. It was suspended at just below chest level, at the perfect height for Harry to use it to push back onto Phaenon’s cock. His breasts, which grew larger as his equine stomach did, pressed into his arms. The tight buds of his nipples tingled with pleasure every time he moved.

Harry’s orgasm crested over him with no warning. He clenched down on Phaenon’s cock and sent the centaur over the edge.

Phaenon slid out and off of Harry when their orgasms passed, but stayed just behind. He ran his hands over Harry’s flanks and the course hair covering the swell of his stomach.

“Much like our equine counterparts, our gestation period is eleven months,” he said. He massaged Harry’s ever-growing sides. “Six months left, and you are already so big.”

“Mhm,” Harry said, eyes fluttering closed. He began to pant as Phaenon’s hands drifted lower.

“And so eager,” Phaenon murmured, watching Harry’s tail flick out of the way of his cunt. He ran his thumb along its edges; pushed inside when it shuddered under his touch. “At this rate the foal will be born soaked in my come.”

“And I’ll be so loose it’ll slide right out.” Harry bit his swollen lips as Phaenon mounted him. The centaur’s cock pressed into his cunt and he sighed as he stretched open around it. “Merlin, you feel so good. So b, big.”

Phaenon gritted his teeth together, fucking into Harry harder. “I will not tell you again to stop calling out a wizard’s name when we couple. No name but mine should pass your lips.”

“Phaenon.” Harry gasped, throwing his head back. “Phaenon. Ph-Phaenon.”

“That’s right, Harry,” Phaenon said. After a few more thrusts he came deep within Harry. Continued the desperate snap of his hips until Harry’s orgasm drained his cock. He slumped over instead of pulling out, pressing a kiss to Harry’s shoulder. “Though you are human, I confess I would not protest to extending your stay for long after the foal is born.”

Harry tilted his head until it rested against Phaenon’s, eyes closed. “Voldemort would have his Death Eaters kill all of you.”

“He would try,” Phaenon said. “Centaurs are a hardy breed, and my herd of a hardier stock than most.”

“We’re here because you lost so many the first time,” Harry said. “I won’t let you lose more because of me. Besides, Wrybios would be horrified.”

Phaenon winced. “Wrybios is fond of your Ron, in his way.”

“Fond of the foal he carries.” Harry shrugged, unbothered by the fact. “Now get off; your foal is insistent that I relieve myself, and then I would dearly enjoy a bath.”

Phaenon laughed and pulled away.

~*~

With a shout, the foal slid into the waiting hands of the herd’s healer, Tustral. Harry slumped into the hay, shooting Phaenon a weak smile.

“A strong male,” Tustral said. “Though smaller than I expected.”

“And at last the final foal is born,” Wrybios said, Wesaenon cradled in his arms. Ron stood next to him, a besotted smile directed at the little filly.

Tustral nodded. Offered the foal to Harry. “Let him nurse. Mother’s milk is best.”

Harry took the foal from her. Hardly had to lift it to his chest before it latched onto his nipple. It gave a few hard sucks. Harry shivered as his milk dropped, breast throbbing with the unusual sensation.

“Only the placenta left, and it will be done,” Tustral said with an approving smile.

Harry groaned as his belly twinged. “Is the placenta supposed to hurt?”

“Do you hurt?” Phaenon asked, tearing his eyes away from his son.

“Ye-es,” Harry said, breath hitching. His stomach twinged again. “It feels the same as before.”

“A second foal would explain why the first is so small when your stomach is so large,” Tustral said, rubbing Harry’s side.

“Oh, no,” Harry said. His sides heaved as sharp pain passed through him.

Tustral smacked Phaenon’s arm. “Take your son so your mare can focus.”

Phaenon plucked the colt out of Harry’s arms, eyes flicking between his son and Harry’s face. The foal cried, arms reaching out for Harry—or, more likely, Harry’s still leaking breast.

Tears pricked the corners of Harry’s eyes. His tail thrashed and his legs kicked weakly as he pushed through the next contraction. “It hurts. Please make it stop. I don’t want to do this again.”

“All will be well.” Tustral patted him. “You have done it once already; the second foal is always easier.”

He moaned, crying.

“Push, little one,” she said as she ran her hands along his stomach and flank. “Your second foal is eager to meet the world, and your body eager to help it along.”

The burning sensation returned as the foal breached. The contraction passed. He had just enough time to take a breath before the next contraction hit and he had to push again. Tustral grabbed the foal’s front legs as they appeared. Pulled as Harry pushed until finally it slid out of his shuddering body.

“And a filly,” she said as the foal wailed. She put it to Harry’s breast and laughed when it began to suckle furiously. “With a hearty appetite. Phaenon, let her brother finish his meal.”

Phaenon set the first foal down, tracing shaky hands over the both of them. The filly stood on wobbly legs as she ate, hands tight around Harry’s breast. The colt sat, one hand on the breast while the other stroked Harry’s side as if in apology.

Wrybios huffed, stomping his front hooves as he watched. “And _that_ is the last to come of this unfortunate coupling.”

~*~

“You’re certain you won’t stay?” Phaenon asked, watching Harry caress Primoth and Pryzeidon’s faces. He grabbed Harry’s hand. “Harry?”

“My staying would mean them dying,” Harry said, not taking his eyes off of Primoth. Her eyes were the same green as his; hair black and wild. Pryzeidon took more after his sire, though Harry liked to imagine his shining copper hair was the same color as Lily’s. “Or worse. I wouldn’t put it past Voldemort to—I don’t want them to go through this, too, someday.”

“We’ll speak with the elders.” Aresor lifted Arystorn out of Hermione’s reluctant arms, dropping a kiss to her forehead. Arystorn shook his thick, frizzy black hair and reached out for her. “No, Arystorn. We will see if your stay has swayed them to the resistance.”

“Leave it,” Ron said, eyes downcast. He smiled a little when Wesaenon patted him, shooing her toward her sire. “We didn’t go through all this so you lot could go and get yourselves knocked off.”

Wrybios opened his mouth as if to argue, then shut it again, jaw clenching. Ran a hand over Wesaenon’s shock of silky strawberry blonde hair and said haltingly, “Perhaps the elders could request a…lengthier stay to continue our alliance. Claim we require further…assistance…strengthening the herd.”

“Your herd isn’t anywhere near the last we’ll be used to strengthen,” Hermione said, playing with Arystorn’s hand when he reached for her again. “We are in high demand, and a…an easy way to seal alliances. I’m sure Voldemort already has the next ready and waiting for us.”

“And we’ve been gone nearly a year.” Harry forced himself to pull away from his—Phaenon’s—foals, tucking his hands into his arm pits.

Tustral batted Hermione’s hand away from Arystorn gently. “We must go. We already kept you a week longer than agreed upon to nurse the foals. With Velans and her sister’s milk coming in, we cannot risk keeping you any longer.” She squeezed Hermione’s hand. “I am sorry, child.”

“In spite of everything this was a, a good reprieve,” Hermione said, jaw clenching. “I know centaurs do not enjoy the company of humans but you, you have all been most kind.”

“And you have been welcome,” Aresor said. Shot a hard glance at Wrybios. “Even if we have not always been as forthcoming with our welcome as we ought to have been.”

Wrybios snorted and looked away from them.

“Come,” Tustral said, turning toward the Forest’s edge. “It will already be nightfall before we arrive.”

The old centaur set off at a pace that left them no leeway to say farewell. They hurried after her and could only spare a quick glance back to see the three centaurs and their foals waving after them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Beethoven's 'The Pastoral Symphony' (or Symphony No. 6) is the name of piece used in the segment with centaurs in Disney's 'Fantasia'.


	3. Release the Kraken

“Welcome home,” Voldemort said. Yanked the rope linking their hands together when they tried to go into their cell. “Oh, no. You were gone so long, I didn’t get to tell you the news—the kraken’s eggs hatched. All male but one. Which means you didn’t save the species as well as we had hoped.”

“Oh, no,” Hermione said, digging her heels in. Ron jerked as the rope between them went taut. “No, please. I can’t do that again, I don’t want to—”

Voldemort’s wand swept through the air. Hermione’s head snapped to one side. “I think your time with the centaurs may have given you a little false hope, my dear, which you’d best let go of immediately. Until I say otherwise, this will be your life. You will breed with whomever I say, whenever say, however many times I say, and the next time you tell me ‘no’ I will take you back to the herd and let you watch me rip your disgusting little half-breed scum apart.”

They scurried after him, at that. Took the purple potion from him and drank it.

The heat that coursed through Harry was more powerful after so long without. It sent him to his knees, cock bobbing between his legs.

He reached for the tentacle as soon as he saw it. Writhed in its grasp as it pulled him into the water, his cock trapped in its coils but unable to create the friction he needed.

Unlike the first time when it held him aloft in the water, the tentacle pushed him to the pool’s bottom. The rough floor chafed against his back. His legs and arms were wrenched apart and pinned down.

The mushroom-tipped tentacle that pressed into his arse was thin. After coupling with Phaenon, Harry could hardly feel it. He bucked and whined, clenching around it in an effort to make himself feel fuller.

A second tentacle, the same size as the first, pushed in. A third quickly followed, twisting around until it found his prostate. Pounded against it with every thrust of its fellows.

He howled into the water when another tentacle wrapped tight around his cock and sack, keeping him from orgasming. More tentacles covered him. Their suckers quickly honed in on sweet spots all over his body that sent shocks of pleasure straight to his bound cock. It throbbed in the kraken’s grasp.

A thick tentacle shoved into his mouth. It fucked into him at a grueling pace not nearly matched by the ones in his arse. His hands twitched with the need to grasp it and push it further down his throat. His legs ached to wrap around the tentacles in his arse and force them to thrust harder.

He moaned with dismay when the tentacle in his mouth shot its load. The ones in his arse followed. He swallowed its release and sucked, cheeks hollowing, to entice it to give him more.

It pulled away instead. He whined as it trailed down his body, further and further from his eager mouth. Then he realized its destination and canted his hips eagerly as it nudged his hole. The tentacles already in him withdrew, pulling his cheeks wide open.

The tentacles around his ankles pushed them up. His knees bent until they almost touched his shoulders, arse raised up high into the air.

The tentacle that had been in his mouth seemed thinner pressing into his arse, but fattened until he was sure he would burst. Instead of pulling out and fucking back into him, it undulated inside him, mimicking the motions. One of the tentacles from before wriggled back inside him, curling up against his prostate so he was hit with a pulse of white-hot pleasure every time the other moved.

A tentacle wrapped around his straining cock, jacking him. He writhed under its touch, desperate to come but unable to for the tentacle still holding his orgasm at bay.

Then the tentacle around his cock and balls suddenly released. His mouth fell open, eyes rolled back, hips jerked spasmodically as he came. Semen clouded the water in front of him, the tentacle around his cock milking it for every last drop.

The tentacles rolled him over onto his knees. He tried to push himself up on his hands but was forced down, cheek squashed against the ground. He shuddered as the huge tentacle slammed back into him, fucking him so hard other tentacles had to hold him in place.

He quickly became hard again. Reached down for his neglected cock but stopped when he touched his stomach. It felt hard and full. He imagined he could already feel the eggs beginning to grow.

Panic shot through the haze of desire. His cock wilted.

Tentacles forced his legs further apart. Pressed up against his perineum. Stars exploded in his vision and the heat returned even stronger than before. He orgasmed. Tightened around the tentacle as it filled his arse, unwilling to let anything escape because he needed, he _needed_ —

The tentacle retreated and he gasped, hole clenching and unclenching around empty air.

A tentacle grasped him by the hair and wrenched him up, shoving his torso against the glass wall of the tank. Another shoved into his arse, even thicker than its predecessor. He slid forward from the strength of it, knees scraping against the pool’s rough floor until his cock was trapped against the glass.

His mouth fell open when a tentacle caressed his lips. It pressed in slowly, bypassing his gag reflex so it could fuck his throat the way it seemed to want. The way Harry wanted.

His cock twitched, willing but unable to become hard again. As if it had been challenged, the kraken began fucking him even harder from both ends. A tentacle wrapped back around his soft, sensitive cock. It was gentle at first, but grew faster and rougher as Harry’s abused cock began to respond. Suckers found his balls and stimulated them.

By the time it finished fucking him, his stomach was already beginning to swell.

~*~

“It thinks if it fucks us harder it’ll make more girls,” Ron said.

Harry groaned. He couldn’t even move enough to look over at Ron, much less join his bed. His arse stung when he breathed. Aching bruises littered his body; the scrapes on his knees throbbed. The corners of his mouth felt cracked, and his jaw and throat burned.

And, of course, his stomach twinged at odd intervals as the eggs inside him grew.

“I can’t feel my cunt,” Hermione said.

“Hermione Jane Granger,” Ron said.

Harry could all but hear her rolling her eyes. “What? I can’t. If it does that again I’ll be ripped in half.”

“Maybe we won’t have to do it again,” Harry said.

Hermione scoffed. “Surely you aren’t still an optimist, Harry.”

“Sort of,” he said. Wanted to shrug but couldn’t move his arms enough to try. She wouldn’t see, anyway. “I don’t think we’re getting out of this like I used to.”

She hummed.

“I was thinking, right,” Ron said after a moment of quiet. “You blokes realize we’ve all had more kids than Mum in just under two years? I mean, I know with all this shite going on it’s a stupid thing to think, but it’s true.”

“I haven’t had more than Molly,” Hermione said. “I only laid three eggs last time. Arystorn brings me to four. But I suppose after this…”

“Do eggs count?” Harry asked. “I don’t know if eggs should count.”

“If the horse babies count, then the octopus babies count,” Ron said. “I figure if it’s a live thing we’ve shoved out of our cunts or arses, it should count. No reason to get hung up on a thing like species when he hasn’t even mentioned making us breed with a wizard, yet.”

Hermione huffed. “Yet.”

“I’m the only one likely to be, anyway, aren’t I? Neither of you are purebloods.” He threw an arm over his eyes and hiccupped. “Lucky me.”

“Hang on,” Harry said, painstakingly pushing himself up onto his elbows. “I had six eggs, and Hermione had three. He said there were seventeen. You had _eight_ , Ron?”

“I’ll have you know I come from good breeding stock.” Ron let out a manic giggle. “Pureblood, remember?”

Hermione sniffled. “Oh, Ron.”

“And my family was, was known for being good breeders,” Ron said. “Seven of us, and Bill got Fleur pregnant right after they were married. Before, before they…”

“I think,” Hermione said loudly. “If all this hadn’t happened, I’d have liked having children.”

“Well, you have them now, like it or not,” Ron said hysterically. “We all have them, now.”

“They aren’t really ours, though, are they?” Harry asked. “I always wanted kids of my own, too. As many as your mum, Ron. Maybe even enough to make a Quidditch team.”

“You do,” Ron said, still laughing even as tears streamed down his cheeks. “You do have a Quidditch team. Good luck getting a bunch of octopuses and two fucking horse people up on a broom.”

“Octopi,” Hermione said. “And don’t be an arse, Ron. Obviously none of that will happen, now.”

Ron didn’t answer, laughing harder and harder until, slowly, the laughter turned into wracking sobs.

“Little curly-haired redheads,” Harry said when the crying began to taper off. “Green-eyed munchkins with teeth too big for their mouth.”

“You shut up about my teeth, Harry Potter,” Hermione said. “Besides, the look on Molly’s face if we three got married.”

“She’d have been ecstatic,” Ron said, voice hoarse. “She always wanted you two to officially be hers. It’s Ginny who’d have been pissed.”

“I think she knew, at the end,” Harry said. “That she wasn’t the Weasley for me. Or the woman.”

“Doesn’t matter, now.” Ron hiccupped. “None of it does. We’re going to die being fucked or pushing out some creature’s spawn, and even if we did escape there’s no one left to celebrate. The last of the resistance probably died ages ago, while we were fucking horses.”

“Yeah,” Harry said, and wondered when he had begun to envy the dead.

~*~

Harry was certain no birth could touch the pain of having Primoth and Pryzeidon.

Until he went into labor with the second clutch of eggs.

The skin of his stomach was stretched tight, nearly translucent. He was so big he couldn’t be rolled over. Instead, Ron and Hermione—already blessedly empty—pulled him to the edge of Ron’s bed.

There was no doubt in Harry’s mind these eggs were bigger than the first. The contractions lasted far longer as his hole stretched to accommodate their size. He was sure he felt something tear when he could finally push. And the burn when they had just began to breach was as bad as when the others were at their widest point.

Ron and Hermione grabbed the cheeks of his arse and pulled them as far apart as they could. The eggs themselves were too slick to grab. Harry screamed in agony when he reached the middle of the first, certain he could feel himself ripping in two.

After too long, he fell back on the bed, sobbing. The sixth egg eased the rest of the way out into Ron’s waiting hands.

“Oh, Harry, you aren’t done, yet,” Hermione said, helping him back up onto his elbows. She piled more pillows under his back.

The sixth seemed to have finally opened his passage. The next three eggs were expelled in a quick rush. The tenth he hardly felt. By the time the eleventh and last slid out, he was too delirious with pain to notice it had stopped.

Voldemort came into the room long enough to gather the two buckets Harry’s offspring had filled. He made Ron and Hermione carry them out of the room, following them out. Returned some moments later with a potion he coaxed into Harry. Harry shuddered as his body twisted itself back down to its normal size.

“One more,” Voldemort said, pressing another glass vial to his lips. Head still fuzzy from pain in spite of the replenishing potion, he opened his mouth and drank.

He gasped, hips bucking as his body lit up with pleasure. His cock, hard and red and weeping precome, slapped up against his stomach. He groaned when Voldemort grabbed his arm, his hole aching with the need to be filled back up.

Voldemort yanked him out of the bed, dragging him out of the room.

Harry stumbled along behind him, slipping on his own slick as it dripped down his legs. He all but threw himself at the tentacle that reached for him as soon as they stepped through the doorway Chamber door. It pulled him into the water. He looked around hazily. His cock throbbed between his legs when he saw Hermione a few feet away, tentacles fucking into her cunt and arse while she writhed between them.

A tentacle nudged up against the rim of his hole. He sucked his bottom lip into his mouth as it pressed into him. He spread his legs and reached back to pull his cheeks apart, whimpering when the tentacle pulled all of the way out and then slammed back inside. Other tentacles held him so it could pound in and out of him, so hard and deep he was sure he would be able to taste when it came.

He cried out when a quill-thin tentacle wrapped around his aching cock. His hips jerked as it swiped over the head of his cock, rubbing the hole at the tip. It wriggled inside as the rest of it jacked him. The tentacle vibrated and he let out a sob, his balls drawing up, ready to come but unable to with the tentacle in the way. It pulled harder at his cock, another tentacle playing with his balls and perineum, yet another twisting his pebbled nipples.

The tentacle in his arse came, pumping such a large load into him that he could feel it eking out of his hole. The other tentacle pulled out of his urethra in favor of playing with his cockhead until he was thrown over the edge, shooting stripes of come into the water.

He shivered when the tentacle slithered out of his hole, but another took its place without a second’s pause. It pressed its tip against his prostate as the rest of it fucked him back to hardness, his cock pulsing in the other tentacle’s grasp.

His mouth dropped open and a tentacle took the opportunity to fuck into it. It forced his mouth wide, pushing past his gag reflex so it could fuck his throat.

The tentacle in his arse fucked harder, punching noises out of him that made the one in his mouth shudder with pleasure. He sucked on it as much as he could and whined when it began to withdraw. It pulsated in his mouth as it came and he latched onto the tip, gulping down everything it had to offer. The one in his arse sped up its movements until he could barely hang on. He came almost at the same time it did, clenching around it because he was still so empty, could take so much more, _wanted_ so much more, wanted to be so full he burst with it.

Flaccid, the tentacle pulled away. It left him empty and gaping, his hole fluttering around nothing until a familiar mushroomed tip rubbed up against it.

~*~

“You produced the female in the first clutch,” Voldemort said as Harry lay shivering and sweating on the bed. Three buckets, overflowing with the kraken’s progeny, sat at the foot of the bed. Two more were at Ron’s, and yet another two at Hermione’s. “So I made your fertility potions even more potent than theirs. With luck, all of those will be females and you won’t have to do it again.”

~*~

Voldemort was a liar, and Harry’s luck had run out before he was even born; Hermione and Ron’s the day they met Harry.

Voldemort took them back to the kraken’s chambers a week later—long before the eggs should have hatched. They spent the next six months being fucked, pregnant, or giving birth.


	4. La Bête du Gévaudan

“Enough of that,” Voldemort said, coming into their cell to find them huddled together on Ron’s bed. Even after taking replenishing potions they were still sore from their latest birth. “The kraken will have more daughters than it knows what to do with, I expect. We’ll move on, now.”

Hermione burst into tears.

“No need to thank me.” Voldemort sneered at them. “Get up. We’ll be Apparating to your new home and we don’t want to be late.”

Exchanging a wary glance, they followed him out of the room and outside. They shivered; it was snowing, and they had not been given clothes since the day they first woke up in the kraken’s lair.

Voldemort led them just outside of the wards. He snapped at them to join hands, then grabbed Harry’s wrist. Harry’s stomach turned with the sick feeling of Apparition.

He stumbled when they landed. Gaped up at the familiar building in which 12 Grimmauld Place was located.

Voldemort yanked on his arm and pulled them inside. The entire place was bare. Even the painting of Walburga Black was gone. The only decorations, if they could be called such, were deep gouges in the walls.

“Werewolves,” Hermione said under her breath as Voldemort led them upstairs.

“Yes,” Voldemort said. “The Order did quite a number on poor Fenrir’s pack. He’s spent the two years since the war turning those I give to him, and rounding up the ones that thought they could hide. But alas, his numbers stay low, and he has a few omegas to punish.”

“By letting them fuck us?” Ron asked, incredulous.

Voldemort smirked at them. “Yes. And the moon is almost up, so we’ve not much time.”

With that, he shoved them into a room. Waved them onto the three beds lined up along one of the walls.

“Now,” he said, handing them each a vile green potion. “This will hurt. But if you scream, the wolves will break into the room and you’ll have none of the fertility potion to ease the way.”

They looked at each other.

Taking a deep breath, Harry pinched his nose and drank the potion.

He bit his hand to keep from screaming as invisible fingers pinched the skin of his chest and stomach. Twisted and yanked until it felt like his skin would be ripped off. There was a feeling like someone had shoved balloons under his skin and inflated them.

When the pain began to ease, he forced his eyes open. Looked down at the pert buds of six new nipples  making two lines down his front. They puffed out with mammary glands under them in preparation of filling with milk.

He removed his bleeding hand from his mouth. Accepted the purple potion from Voldemort.

“Not yet,” Voldemort said when he brought the vial to his lips. “So eager, eh, Potter? Let the other two finish or the smell of you will bring the wolves in early.”

He looked over at Ron and Hermione where they continued to writhe on their beds. Ron was curled forward in the fetal position as he tried to cover his breasts. Hermione’s new breasts grew and jiggled as she moved, nearly the size of her original ones.

“And now I’ll take my leave,” Voldemort said. “You’ll stay here until Fenrir decides he no longer has need of you. He’ll insist you keep those lovely new additions throughout your time here—we’ve made the fertility potion even stronger than it was with the kraken, and you’ll need those teats to feed the multitude of little curs you’re going to have. I wouldn’t hazard to guess how many litters he’ll force on you before he decides you’re done, and with the replenishing potion he’ll have you pregnant again as soon as you’ve given birth. Do enjoy your stay.”

With that he left, and locked the door behind him.

Trembling, Harry drank the potion.

“No use putting it off, I reckon,” he heard Ron say as heat coursed through his veins.

A howl from somewhere in the house sent a shiver up his spine. For a moment he thought it was caused by fear, but a second howl made his thighs wet with slick; his cock rock hard between his legs.

In the haze of his heat, he drew himself up onto his knees. Spread his legs. Arched his back to present his arse. Rocked into the bed below him and shuddered at the feeling of his cock rubbing against the sheets.

A different door than the one they had used slammed open behind them and he froze. The wolves panted, claws clacking on the hardwood floor as they made their way toward the beds.

His cock drizzled precome onto the sheets. The mattress dipped behind him.

He jumped when a clawed hand grabbed his thigh and wrenched him back. A tapered cock thrust into his hole. The wolf wasted no time. Set a hard pace. Harry’s elbows gave out. Chest hit the bed. Nipples stung when they hit the rough fabric. Tightened a moment later. Throbbing pleasure coursed all the way down to his toes.

He didn’t notice the swell at the base of the wolf’s cock until it started to catch on his rim. It forced his hole wider and wider with no regard for the limits of Harry’s body. It grew too wide to go in. The wolf gave one last vicious thrust of its hips and forced the knot past Harry’s puckered opening. It collapsed on top of him, its hips jerking as it filled Harry’s hole to bursting, knot keeping every drop of its come trapped inside him.

Harry wept as he tried to buck his hips to create some friction. His cock, still flushed and rock hard, lay trapped between his body and the bed. The wolf snarled and placed its teeth on his neck. He held still as the wolf drenched his insides with come.

The wolf pulled out when the knot finally began to shrink, a few droplets of come trickling out behind it. Its claws on Harry’s thighs forced him backwards. His knees hit the edge of the bed, feet hanging off. The wolf pushed his chest flush to the bed, brought his arse as high up as it would go, and fucked back into him. With every thrust it pulled almost all of the way out, the tip of its tapered prick teasing Harry’s hole, and yanked him back onto it until it was balls deep. Harry’s body lit up with sensation, hole grasping after it, desperate to be filled to bursting.

Harry reached down to wrap a hand around his cock. He didn’t have to move otherwise; the wolf’s frenzied thrusts created all the friction he needed. The wolf’s knot brushed against something inside him. His balls tightened and he came, spilling hot spunk all over his hand and the bed. The clench of his muscles made the wolf’s movements more frantic. It howled its completion as its knot locked them back together.

The wolf continued swiveling its hips, knot pressing against Harry’s prostate. Harry threw his head back as his cock fattened back up. He squeezed it, jacking himself using his tacky come to ease the way. The knot deflated just enough for the wolf to start fucking in and out of his puffy, abused hole. Come squirted out around it.

Harry’s arm brushed against some of his nipples. He shuddered. Shoved his other hand under him. Grabbed the first nipple he found and started to twist and tease it. Pleasure shot down to his groin, his hole clenching around the wolf’s knot until it tied them together again and came. He followed, cock jerking weakly.

With his hands still trapped under him, Harry could feel his stomach growing bloated with the come being stuffed inside of him. The wolf showed no signs of stopping, merely pausing to shove him away from the growing wet spot so it wouldn’t slip while it fucked him. Harry, for his part, rolled over on his back when the wolf nudged him over and raised his legs up so it could fill him even more, whining any time its cock pulled out for any length of time.

Their time spent tied together by the knot shortened as the night passed. The wolf seemed unbothered by it. Fucked him with wild abandon any time the knot shrunk enough to allow movement.

Stopped only when the moon set and the wolf twisted back into a man.

Harry finally fell unconscious to the sound of a familiar voice saying “I am so sorry, Harry.”

~*~

Harry gasped awake soon after when the man pulled out of him one last time, the quickly deflating knot catching at his rim.

“Harry?”

He turned. Wasn’t sure whether to laugh or cry when the man behind him was Remus Lupin. Settled on crying and buried himself into Remus’ chest.

“Harry, no, I’m so sorry,” Remus said, clutching him.

“I thought you were dead,” Harry said. “I was sure everyone was dead but us.”

“No,” Remus said. “No, I’m afraid not.”

“Who—who else?” he asked.

“Ron’s brother, Bill,” Remus said. “And Viktor Krum. We saw one of the Patil girls, once, but Fenrir keeps her and some other girls for himself.”

“Growing the pack.” Harry squeezed his eyes shut, arms curling around his distended stomach. “How long?”

“Not in the past year; who knows if she’s still alive or if Fenrir’s killed her,” Remus said.

“No.” Harry shrugged. He wished he could feel even the slightest twinge of loss, but couldn’t. Too much had happened; he didn’t have any feelings to spare for a girl he’d hardly known. “How long until we, y’know, grow the pack.”

Remus paused. Looked down at him but didn’t comment. “Since we…since it was a full moon, it’ll be three months instead of nine. Give or take; I heard Fenrir and Voldemort talking about some spell to force you into labor on the day before the full moon.”

“Because they have a potion so you can knock us back up as soon as the babies are out. They must only want us getting pregnant while you’re wolves,” Harry said. Let himself relax into the bed even as Remus stiffened, his eyes drifting closed. “Don’t worry about it; we’re used to this.”

“Used to wha—bloody shit,” Ron said. Harry looked over at the sound of Ron rolling off the bed and onto the floor. “Bill?”

Bill stared down at him. “Ron?”

“You didn’t tell me Bill was the one fucking Ron,” Harry said, gaping at them.

“Something must have been in the potions,” Remus said, pallor gone green. “My wolf didn’t even spare the other two a glance; came right to you. Fenrir knew this would be the worst coupling for all of us: me and you, Bill and Ron, and Viktor and Hermione.”

“Am I going to give birth to kids with webbed fingers or, or three eyes or something?” Ron asked, arms around his stomach. “What good does that do Fenrir’s pack?”

“Your children should be fine,” Hermione said. “Purebloods are all inbred, already. That’s why so many pureblood children end up being squibs.”

“Wouldn’t make a difference to Fenrir if they can’t do magic, as long as they’re wolves,” Remus said, though he still looked like he might vomit at the slightest provocation.

“Don’t think Fenrir would do it if it was going to jeopardize the litter, even if he wants to punish Bill or whatever.” Harry shrugged. “We don’t get a choice, anyway. Might as well not worry about it, mate.”

Ron huffed, pulling himself back up onto the bed. “Of course I’m going to worry about it, are you daft?”

“I couldn’t stop myself,” Bill said, making no movements towards Ron. “I’m so—Ron.”

“Don’t _you_ worry about it, Bill.” Ron patted his brother’s hand. “It’s not _your_ fault. We’ve all known from the start Voldemort and all his lot are barmy. Just need a bit to wrap my head around it, is all.”

“You’ll have to get over it, too,” Hermione said. “Especially if it turns out you three can’t switch which of us you have sex with during all of this. Ron gets mad horny when he’s pregnant.”

“Like you don’t,” Ron said. “You and Aresor disappeared for two bloody months your second trimester.”

“How would you know?” Harry asked. “We hardly saw you and Wrybios at all.”

“And who are these, Eraser and Ribeye’s?” Viktor asked before Ron could retort.

“Centaurs,” Hermione said. “Ron and I had a foal each, and Harry had two. Which is odd, I think. If any of us should have twins, genetically speaking, it should definitely have been Ron.”

“Shove off, Hermione, I’ve had more than enough with the bloody kraken, thank you.” Ron stuck his nose in the air. “Except that one time with Harry, I always had more than both of you.”

“Centaurs and a kraken,” Bill said.

“I liked the centaurs,” Hermione said. “After the first time, I mean. Aresor was very sweet.”

“You got lucky with Aresor, and Phaenon wasn’t too bad, either. Wrybios was a prick,” Ron said. “He’d fuck me while talking about how inferior humans were, and how he hated being one of the stallions chosen to breed with us.”

“Like being fucked by Draco Malfoy,” Harry said, sniggering.

“Don’t think he could’ve got it up if Voldemort hadn’t turned us into centaurs, even with the fertility potion,” Ron said. “Sanctimonious prick.”

“And the, the kraken?” Bill asked.

“Bigger than you,” Ron said with a snort. “Except when your cock goes all funny at the one end.”

Hermione rolled her eyes. “It’s called a knot, Ron. Canine males knot their bitches to keep the semen from leaking out during and just after intercourse. It heightens the chance of the bitch’s eggs being fertilized.” She looked at Viktor. “Do you only have a knot on the full moon? In your wolf form?”

“I—I believe so,” Viktor said.

“He wouldn’t really know, Hermione,” Remus said. “He was only turned after the war—Bill, too—and we’ve all been kept here since then.”

“And we haven’t exactly been given a lot of chances to, you know, test it out,” Bill said.

Remus nodded. “Not that I had much experience before the war, given my situation, but I never knotted anyone before last night. To be honest with you, I didn’t realize we could have sex under a full moon at all. The pain of the transformation was always so great, and the fear of turning someone else…”

Hermione hummed, eyeing Viktor. Wrinkled her nose and flopped down onto the bed, her back facing them. “Well, now isn’t the time to test the theory; I’m exhausted and sore. There’ll be plenty of time later, when the pregnancy hormones kick in.”

“Yeah,” Ron said with a yawn. “I’m knackered.”

~*~

“Bloody breasts,” Harry said, flopping onto his side. “Wanted to sleep on my stomach until I’m too fat for it, but they bloody pinch no matter what I do.”

“Breasts are like that no matter how many you have. And we’re lucky that’s all they did,” Hermione said. “I’m rather surprised they didn’t give us dog ears and tails, too.”

Ron made a retching noise. “Don’t go giving anyone any ideas. It’s going to be bad enough when these things start to grow.”

“They feel good, though,” she said as she ran a hand over her teats. Her eyelids fluttered closed and she bit her lip. “More sensitive than my regular breasts have ever been, I think.”

Harry glanced at the door. Made his way over to her bed. “Let me see.”

Hermione smiled at him and lay down on her back. A month in, her stomach was just starting to swell; her breasts had yet to grow at all.

Harry leaned over her, tweaking the tight buds on her chest with his thumb. Put his mouth on one of the ones at the top of her chest. Scraped his teeth across it. Ron latched onto the nipple closest to him and sucked, hard.

Hermione gasped, arching into their mouths. Whined and squirmed as they made their way down towards her cunt, hands teasing the breasts their mouths weren’t on.

The door slammed open.

They flew apart. Remus, buck naked and hard, grabbed Harry and dragged him across the room. Threw him onto their bed and pushed him to his knees. He choked on a yell when Remus thrust into him; no purple potion meant no slick to ease the way and no heat to make him want it regardless.

“They,” Remus panted in his ear. “They forced a, a potion on us. I can’t stop, I don’t, don’t know what it—ah.”

Remus jerked and came. His knot swelled, even though the full moon had passed two days before. He grunted and growled as thick, wiry hair sprouted on his arms. His bones cracked and shifted. His fingernails on Harry’s hips lengthened into claws.

Harry sobbed as the transformation caused the knot to pull on his rim. Remus’ cock grew larger, and the knot with it.

The wolf slumped over Harry when the transformation ended, spent. Its knot shrank, but Harry didn’t try to move away. Squeezed his eyes shut, tears streaming down his cheeks. He listened as Ron and Hermione were subjected to the same treatment.

It was over as quickly as it began. Harry didn’t move even when the wolf let out a soft snore in his ear, too terrified of it waking up and fucking him again.

The door creaked open.

“You were getting too comfortable,” said Voldemort as he entered the room. His feet made no sound on the floor. “They won’t wake until you take these.”

There was a soft clink as something was set on the table.

“Don’t think you are safe just because you once knew these wolves,” Voldemort said. “Severus, Fenrir, and myself have ensured that they are no longer the men you knew before the war. And breasts will be the least of your worries if you ever start to think this isn’t so bad again.”

With that, he swept back out of the room.

Several minutes passed before Harry managed to wriggle out from under Remus’ massive wolf form. Ron had already left Bill’s side, staring at the potions on the table.

“You reckon they’d stay like that all night?” Ron asked without looking at him. “If we don’t take them?”

Hermione snagged one of the vials. “Something worse would happen.”

She went back to the bed without waiting to see if they would do the same. Straightened her shoulders and chugged the potion.

~*~

The men were never forced to take the potion to turn them into their warped wolf forms again. Even without it, they fucked Harry, Ron, and Hermione every night thereafter. No one was sure whether there was another potion being sneaked into their food, or if the moon heightened their senses so they couldn’t ignore the Trio’s heady pregnancy hormones, or some combination of the two.

They only grew knots on the night of the full moon, when they fucked like the crazed animals the moon turned them into.

~*~

The puppies, twisted little things not unlike their canine sires, were so small they fit snugly in Harry’s hands. He hardly felt them come out. But their size meant there were more of them: thirteen total.

He laid on his side so they could nurse, watching as they pushed each other out of the way. He waited for them to suck him dry. Instead, some sort of magic kept his breasts full. Milk continued to dribble out of him even after the pups finished nursing and fell asleep.

“No time for that,” Fenrir said before Harry could go to sleep, too. Fisted a hand in his hair and wrenched his head back.

He drank the replenishing potion Fenrir all but shoved in his mouth. His body tingled as everything but his breasts returned to its normal size. He whined when Fenrir’s hand in his hair tightened, forcing him to his feet.

He was taken into the main bedroom and tossed onto the bed.

There was a purple potion on all three bedside tables.

Fenrir went back into the birthing room and returned with Ron. Ron propped himself up on his elbows to grimace at the purple potion next to him, but didn’t move toward it. His nipples glistened in the dim light of the room, droplets of milk rolling down his sides.

Hermione was brought in next and treated the same.

“Moonrise is in ten minutes,” Fenrir said, nodding at the window. “You’ve had good, strong litters. I do hope these will turn out the same.”

Fenrir left.

At the sound of a long, angry howl, moonlight filtering in the window, Harry took the potion.

He got up on his knees. His breasts swung below him, nipples brushing against the bed and sending short bursts of pleasure through him.

The wolf shoved him over. Pulled him to the edge of the bed so his arse dangled off of it. Thrust into him. Leaned over and sniffed him. Lapped at his still-leaking nipples with a long, smooth tongue.

Mouth dropping open, Harry arched into the tongue. Came when it drifted low enough to brush against his throbbing cock. The wolf hauled him down onto its knot.

When its knot shrank, the wolf rolled Harry onto his stomach. Yanked him up onto his knees and fucked back into his hole, knot quickly tying them together.

Harry was still hard, but his erection flagged when he heard the pups crying from the next room. He jerked, pain jolting through him as the knot kept him in place. The wolf snarled, and he snarled back, ignoring the pain as he fought to get to the hungry pups.

The door opened. A girl, stomach clearly in the early stages of pregnancy, carried a basket to the bed and unloaded the pups. She scurried back out when her task was completed.

Harry drew the pups closer, heedless of the knot as they suckled from his dangling teats.

The wolf wouldn’t let him pull away when the knot went down. Fucked him while the pups fed. They whined when the force of the wolf’s thrusts shook them off a nipple. Harry reached down to push his cock back, pointing away from the pups as the knot stimulated his prostate and he came.

He pushed and squirmed until the wolf rolled them onto their sides, giving the pups easier access to his breasts.

Ignored the wolf’s growls any time it tried to move them into a different position.

~*~

The wolf behind him shifted into Bill when the moon finally set.

~*~

“We’re quite lucky, really,” Hermione said, mostly to herself. Ron grunted, massaging her back while her pups suckled her teats. Some of them made impatient noises until she shifted, nudging one of her breasts out from under her huge stomach. “You don’t have to believe me, it’s true.”

“Go on, Miss Know-It-All,” Ron said.

“Bitches—actual bitches, I mean—can be impregnated by more than one sire.” She traced a finger along one of the pups. “We only have to do one at a time.”

~*~

Harry waddled back and forth in the birthing room, waiting for his first contraction to hit.

Ron and Hermione were deep in the throes of childbirth. A glistening new pup was already latched to one of Hermione’s breasts as she strained to push out the next.

He was still circling the room when Ron and Hermione finished giving birth. Continued even when their pups slept, bellies full of milk.

“Moonrise is soon,” Fenrir said as he handed the other two the replenishing potion. Ushered them into the bedroom. Returned and leaned against the wall to watch Harry pace with narrowed eyes.

“Thought the potion made us give birth before the full moon,” Harry said, grimacing as he rubbed his aching back. His belly was gigantic, and the base of his spine throbbed. The pups had shifted into a lower position the night before. His breasts hung heavy with milk, nipples swollen and ready to feed the pups squirming in his stomach beneath them.

“It’s supposed to.” Fenrir crossed his arms over his chest. “At this rate the moon will set before your waters have even broken.”

Harry grimaced at the thought. “Reckon they’re not ready to come out, yet?”

“Bend over the bed,” Fenrir said, pushing off of the wall and reaching for his belt. “A good fucking should help you along.”

Harry shook his head, turning and bracing his arms against the wall. Spread his legs. “I’ll break in half if I try that; the bed’s too low and I’m too fat. Fuck me here.”

Fenrir snorted—at Harry’s tone or the demand itself, it was unclear. Went behind Harry, using his thumbs to spread Harry’s cheeks. Thrust into him with a low groan.

“It’s no wonder you produce the most,” Fenrir grunted into Harry’s ear. His hands clutched Harry’s hips, pulling him back on Fenrir’s cock. “Your hole is made for filling.”

Harry moaned, head dropping between his arms. He couldn’t see his cock—hadn’t been able to see it for weeks—but bit his lip as he felt it slap up against his protruding stomach.

“Please,” he whimpered, spreading his legs wider and shuddering as Fenrir’s balls smacked his sensitive perineum. “Please, I’m so, so close.”

His mouth fell open when Fenrir reached around and fondled his breasts with one hand. Wrapped the other around Harry’s cock. Harry cried out, hips stuttering as he orgasmed.

Fenrir’s thrusts quickened, but he pulled out before he came. Jizz painted Harry’s thighs and arse.

Harry panted against the wall, eyes closed, waiting for a contraction to hit.

He let out a soft sob when nothing happened. Resumed walking without paying any mind to the come sliding down his legs. “I have to get them out. If I get any bigger I’ll explode.”

Fenrir sighed and grabbed one of the wet towels. Forced Harry to stop and wiped him down.

“Keep this up,” Fenrir said, as if Harry had any plans to stop. “I need to go before moonrise; might harm you if I turn in here.”

Harry hummed.

“If you haven’t started by morning, I’ll see if I can find a potion to induce labor.” Fenrir frowned at him for a moment longer, then shook his head and left.

Halfway through the night a few of Ron and Hermione’s pups began to cry. Harry waved off the girl who came to deliver them to their mothers.

“Move them to one of the beds and help me lay on my side,” he said, waddling toward her. “Someone should drink all this damned milk; maybe these pups will get angry their food is being eaten.”

She nodded and did as he asked, nudging the pups toward his swollen nipples.

He shifted a little as they latched on and suckled. Grimaced at the painful pulling sensation. The girl took the pups away as they finished and put them in their proper beds; brown furred pups to Hermione’s bed, and those with Viktor’s dark hair to Ron’s.

He groaned; he was still not even in the beginning stages of labor.

He motioned the girl back over and she helped him to his feet. He leaned heavily against her, allowing her to wipe the milk off of him.

Shooing her from the room, he paced.

Hours passed. Just as Harry was considering the chair across the room, one of the Patil twins entered with a tray of steaming food.

“Harry,” she—Padma? Parvati? She looked so different from what either of them had looked like back in school—said, setting it down on the table. “Moonset is soon. Fenrir told me to try to hurry you along if you still weren’t in labor by now, so I made you some spicy curry. Spice is supposed to help.”

He grunted and trudged over. Sat with a groan and leaned back in the chair, rubbing his hands over his belly. Sighed and grabbed a spoon.

“You know, Harry, we really did think you were going to save us from all of this,” she said after a long, drawn out silence.

Harry blinked and looked up at her, spoon in his mouth. His stomach twinged.

“After you were captured, they gave Parvati and I to Fenrir. He turned her—I haven’t seen her since then but she’s probably dead somewhere, forced to fight the Dark Lord’s war and turn who knows how many people into wolves in the meantime. And he wouldn’t turn me.” She dropped a hand to the swell of her stomach. “Me he’s turned into a bitch for whatever betas have earned his favor; lets one fuck me until it’s put a pup in me and then lets the rest fuck me until I’m ready to give birth. I guess I’m lucky he didn’t turn me first, so I don’t pop out the huge litters you and Ron and Hermione have to, but I’m sure I’ve had enough forced on me to make up for that. And it’s only a matter of time before he does turn me or, or give me whatever potions they’re giving you.”

His jaw tightened, lips pursed.

“The Wizarding World was counting on you, and now look at you: just another bitch.”

“And when did I ever get to count on the Wizarding World, hey?” he asked, pointing the spoon at her. “I got dumped with the Dursleys the first time I saved the bloody Wizarding World, and once I got to Hogwarts it flip-flopped between loving and hating me so often it’s a wonder I don’t have whiplash. So why don’t you tell the Wizarding World to stop telling its Saviors to bend over and take it, and then getting surprised when they do.”

He opened his mouth to say more. Gasped and hunched over as pain ripped through his stomach.

He waved her away when she took a step toward him. “You and the Wizarding World can fuck right off. I’ve got some bitching to do.”

She spat at him and turned on her heel, storming from the room.

He pushed himself up out of the chair and resumed pacing. Paused only when another contraction hit. Slowly dragged a bucket of water to his birthing bed. Tossed a few washcloths into it, and put a pile of towels on the nightstand.

He hissed and grabbed the back of the chair, knuckles going white as his fingernails dug into the wood. The pressure in his stomach suddenly eased, fluid streaming down his legs. Another contraction followed. He wrapped an arm around his stomach in a bid to ease the pain.

When the contraction passed, he made his way over to the bed. Sat and lay down on his side. Drew one leg up and hooked his arm around the back of his knee.

He pulled the leg up and bared down with the next contraction. Panted and whined when the first pup crowned. It slid out with the next push.

He released his leg and reached back. Grasped the pup and pulled it to his front. It latched onto the nearest nipple as he leaned over to fish a wet cloth out of the bucket. He wiped the blood and afterbirth off of the pup as it suckled.

His mouth dropped open as the second pup breached. He pulled his leg back up, hand slipping against his skin. The second pup inched out, in no particular hurry to leave Harry’s womb.

Harry groaned as he felt the third, grabbing several cloths when the contraction passed and he was able to move.

He barely had time to breathe, cleaning one pup even as he heaved through the birth of the next. His nipples ached as the pups fed, heedless of him straining through labor. He moved them out of the way as they finished eating, bellies warm and full, only for another to take their place.

He could hardly see for crying when he finished, certain that no replenishing potion would ever return his hole to its original size. Pushed and pulled himself and the pups around the bed until they all huddled together. The last few pups were still suckling when exhaustion dragged him to sleep.

~*~

“Eighteen,” Fenrir said, watching the pups nurse.

“You did say I always have the most.” Harry shrugged and pulled one of the pups out of the way as it finished. “But I missed the full moon.”

Fenrir tilted his head to one side, though his eyes never left the pups. “Yes, you did.”

“Will you give Viktor—he was next for me, right? Will you give him the potion Voldemort used to punish us? The one that made them shift even though the full moon had passed?”

“Pups conceived using that potion are human, and immune to the bite,” Fenrir said. Shook his head and muttered, “Eighteen, and all healthy.”

“I’ll be a month behind Ron and Hermione if we have to wait.”

“We won’t.” Fenrir looked up at Harry. “You’ll carry my heir.”

“You don’t want to wait until the full moon to conceive an heir?” Harry asked.

“I only want one,” Fenrir said. “I have many pups, but I will only have one heir and you will bear it.” He leaned forward, running his hand down Harry’s stomach and smiling when the muscles twitched. “And I think I’ll let you impregnate some of my omega bitches. Perhaps with you as their stud they will produce larger litters. The Dark Lord’s blasted fertility potion has yet to work on them.”

“But I—”

“Once the pups have finished nursing, take the replenishing potion,” Fenrir said, straightening. “I’ll have you tonight, under Mother Moon.”

“O-okay,” Harry said. Blinked at Fenrir’s retreating back. Shook his head and pulled a pup out of the way as it fell asleep, belly fat with milk. Another pup grunted and took its place on Harry’s teat.

~*~

Without Harry’s bulging stomach and impending labor to deter him, Fenrir fucked like the beast the moon turned him into. One hand gripped bruises into Harry’s hip while the other pinned his wrists to the wall above his head. His balls slapped against Harry’s arse with every frantic thrust.

Harry whined and wriggled, cock trapped against the wall and soaked in the milk dribbling from his breasts.

Fenrir pulled out and turned Harry around, grabbing his legs and jerking them up and around his hips. Fucked back into him, head thrown back, mouth hanging open. His eyes opened, zeroing in on Harry’s breasts as they glistened with milk and sweat in the light of the moon.

He leaned forward and wrapped his mouth around a teat. Sucked hard.

Harry cried out, arching away from the wall. His fingers tangled in Fenrir’s hair. His cock twitched, unable to harden again after being brought to orgasm so many times already. He shuddered as Fenrir sucked again, milk rushing out. Whined when Fenrir pulled away to watch milk bead at the tip of his nipple.

Fenrir lapped the milk up and fucked harder into Harry. Came with one last snap of his hips.

Panting, Harry collapsed against the wall. He wriggled in Fenrir’s grasp. Tightened around Fenrir’s cock to keep any semen from leaking out.

Fenrir grunted. Carried Harry over to the bed.

~*~

Harry frowned down at his stomach, still flat even though it had been nearly a month.

Fenrir chuckled at the sight of him. “So impatient for the swell of pregnancy.”

“My only long pregnancy was with the foals,” Harry said as he ran his hands over his stomach. “And the twins were never this small, I think. Not to mention I was half horse.”

“Hm.” Fenrir sat next to him, a puce-colored potion in one hand. “Well, think of it as a break.”

“I’m still pregnant,” Harry said with a shrug. “I’m just not used to my stomach being this flat this long.”

“It will come in handy while you fuck the omegas,” Fenrir said, offering him the potion. “Here.”

Harry sniffed it, making a face at the rancid smell. “What’s this do?”

“It’ll help with the omegas, too. I had to wait for the child to quicken to use it.”

Pinching his nose, Harry drank the potion.

Immediately regretted it. He curled up into a tight ball, screaming. Pain like a knife cut into his cock, as if peeling the skin off of the organ. The base of his stomach burned as if a welding torch had been pressed against it.

The pain disappeared as suddenly as it started. He looked down, expecting to see a grotesque mound where his cock had been. But his cock was still there, plastered to his stomach as if attached.

“And now to see if it works,” Fenrir said, tracing a finger along the sensitive skin.

Wide-eyed, Harry watched as something red emerged from his cock, glistening in the morning light. It slid out further as Fenrir fondled him. His hips jerked of their own accord as pleasure overrode his panic. His breath came faster. The muscles of his stomach twitched.

His balls drew up, the sheath-like skin bulging as they passed through it. They came out of the head of his cock, as red as the rest of whatever it was already jutting out. Grew larger and larger as Fenrir’s hand tightened and massaged harder.

Stars exploded in Harry’s vision. Come spurted over his chest. His hips stuttered as Fenrir wetted a hand in his semen and grasped what Harry realized was his very own knot. Fenrir squeezed. Harry’s mouth fell open, pleasure rocketing through his body until it felt like every nerve was lighting up.

“Can’t wait to watch you fuck the omegas with this,” Fenrir said as Harry continued to orgasm, bright red cock twitching with every spurt of jizz. “Stuff them full even when you’re bulging with my heir. You’ll be so beautiful, Harry.”

Harry gasped for air, cheeks flushed. Whimpered as Fenrir smeared a hand through the puddle of come all over his chest.

Pushing his legs up, Fenrir fucked into him. With every thrust, Harry’s cock drizzled even more semen all over itself.

By the time Harry’s knot finally shrank, Fenrir was starting on round three.

~*~

The tapered tip of his new cock was already peeking out when Padma finished her transformation under the light of the full moon.

“A gift,” Fenrir had said, forcing the purple potion down her throat. “Since she was so quick to call you a bitch, she’ll be your first. And you’ll be her first in this form; I bit her last night, just for you.”

The wolf on the bed howled, yanking on the shackles chaining her to the wall. She arched her back, presenting her glistening cunt to him. The heavy scent of her permeated the air, his cock sliding further out with every breath he took.

He stepped forward and knelt on the bed. Rutted against her until his cock was far enough out to catch on her rim. He mounted her. Tangled his fingers in the wiry fur at her sides, pushing her away and then wrenching her back. He shuddered at the feel of her, hot and wet and tight around his cock, eagerly pushing back for as much as he could give her.

His mouth fell open as his balls tightened and drew up and out of his sheath, sending bursts of pleasure through him as it began to catch on her cunt. He pushed her legs further apart to allow himself even deeper inside of her. His hips jerked as his knot grew, making it harder and harder to force it past the tight, welcoming lips of her cunt.

He threw his head back as he came, knot rapidly expanding until it was too large to pull out of her. Every movement of her channel around him made him come again, orgasm crashing over him in waves, hips swiveling to try to force his come as deep inside her as it would go.

The ever-constant heat in the pit of his stomach roared back to life as his knot shrank. His cock stayed out of its sheath, still buried in her. He fucked her harder the second time, grunting in time to the vulgar sounds of their skin smacking together. Pulled her closer so he could fondle her breasts.

He wondered, as his knot swelled again, if Fenrir would let him fuck her again after she birthed the litter. Bit his lip as he imagined sucking her milk-filled tits as he fucked another litter into her. Painted her insides with come to the mental image of her constantly swollen with his pups.

He quickly knotted her a third time, hips stuttering as he realized he was filling her up so much her stomach was bloating.

He  pressed himself closer to her and came again and again, thinking that next time he might not need a potion to urge him on.

~*~

Harry didn’t know either of the other bitches Fenrir had him fuck on full moons, but he didn’t need to. Their cunts felt fantastic on his new cock, regardless of their feral wolf form, and the fertility potion made them eager for as much come as Harry could produce.

Fenrir kept them nearby so Harry could watch their stomachs grow, but only allowed him to fuck them on the night of the full moon, when it was time to stuff a litter into them.

Harry’s belly was just beginning to swell when Padma gave birth to their first litter. He ran his hands over the slight bump of it as she writhed and shrieked through labor. He missed the quick pregnancy of werewolf pups.

“Five.” Fenrir curled a lip up when she collapsed back into the bed.

“We’ll do better this time,” Harry said, confident as he reached down and traced a finger along his sheath, a flash of red already at the tip. His pregnancy would be slower, but the hormones sent sparks of pleasure coursing through his veins faster than the purple potion ever did.

~*~

“I don’t think I like being on this side of things,” Harry said as his third bitch screamed, a pup sliding into the healer’s waiting hands. The child in his stomach shifted as if considering the merits of heeding his wishes and coming early. He massaged his belly with a hand.

“The pups you’ve sired are as strong as those you whelped yourself,” Fenrir said with a shrug. “Fine additions to the pack, either way.” He reached over and rubbed Harry’s stomach. “My heir will be here soon enough.”

Harry grunted, turning to leave the room. “Wake me when she’s ready. Your heir drains me.”

“Very well.” Fenrir waved him off, eyes never leaving the screaming omega on the bed.

Harry woke what felt like mere minutes after falling asleep. The omega was on top of him, human, desperately trying to ride him. He shoved her off, red cock hanging out of its sheath as he climbed out of bed. He threw the curtains open and watched, palming himself, as she contorted into her wolf form. She pressed her swollen teats to the bed, hips rising as far in the air as they could.

He slid into her. Smiled as she thrust back onto him. Bit his lip and let her do the work, knot slipping in and out of her a few times before growing too large.

She whined and thrashed against him; his knot wasn’t buried in her, and come slid down her thighs. He grabbed her hips and thrust once, twice, three times before he gained enough momentum to force his knot into her eager cunt. His eyes rolled back in his head, hips undulating and sending short bursts of pleasure through his cock.

She squeezed every last drop out of him. He pulled out, cock retreating halfheartedly into its sheath. Biting his bottom lip as she pressed back for more, he rubbed against her. His mouth fell open as his cock took a renewed interest in the proceedings. Rutted into her until it was fully out. Moaning, he watched it slide in and out of her cunt, knot growing at the base. He plastered himself against her as best he could when his knot tied them together.

~*~

“You would make a good wolf,” Fenrir said, watching his heir nurse. “I told Voldemort I would return you after this, but you can stay if you’d like.”

“Voldemort won’t let me stay anywhere indefinitely,” Harry said.

“Didn’t say I’d be asking permission.”

Harry sighed. “I don’t want to stay. I miss Hermione and Ron,” who were sent back after the birth of their third litters, “and also my chest and cock. You have enough pups.”

“Didn’t say you’d be carrying any more pups, either.”

Harry blinked and looked up at him.

“You could be my mate. Raise the boy, take your place at my side.”

“No,” Harry said. “My place is where Voldemort sends me. Hermione and Ron are probably with the next faithful supporter, now, and Voldemort is probably already displeased I’ve stayed this long. So thank you, but no thank you.”

Fenrir huffed, nostrils flaring. “If you change your mind—”

“I won’t.” Harry handed the sated and sleeping child to the healer and stood on wobbly legs. His cock peeked out of its sheath, eagerly pointing toward the third bitch where she lay writhing on the bed across from his, cunt wet and shimmering in the dim light of the room. “Leave and let the moonlight in so I can fuck her one last time, and then I’m ready to go.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> La Bête du Gévaudan is an old story about a creature that murdered around 100 people in France from 1764-1767. Pretty commonly referred to as a doglike creature; rumored to be a werewolf.


	5. The Anak of the Tribe

“Evidently your bodies need a break,” Voldemort said, tossing him into the room with Hermione and Ron. “Even with the replenishing potions. I’m told you’ll need six months minimum, but preferably twelve. Since these two have been wallowing for half a year already, we’ll give them a full year. And once you’ve caught up, we’ll move on.”

Harry nodded, rubbing his wrist.

Voldemort smiled at him; it would have made him beautiful if its intention was comfort rather than malice. “Giants next.”

“He lets us explore the castle a bit,” Hermione said after the door closed, beckoning Harry to the bed. Their three singles were pushed together. “Mostly just between here and the kraken’s chamber, but sometimes he takes us to the library.”

Ron dragged Harry into his arms. “The kraken’s out during the day, too, so we can go swimming.”

“That’s nice,” Harry said, curling up between them. Felt all of the tension ease out of his shoulders, his eyes fluttering closed. “I’ve missed you.”

“Us, too.” Hermione nuzzled his neck. “Fenrir said you were going to bear him a child?”

“An heir.” Harry sighed. “And I had to impregnate three of his omega bitches. Padma Patil and two other girls, every third full moon. Fucked the third one again last night, after I had the baby.”

Ron kissed his shoulder. “Maybe one day Voldemort will let you fuck us. Wouldn’t even need that bloody foul purple potion; we’d give you so many children, Harry.”

Harry smiled at the thought, caressing his own stomach. “You, too.”

“Wish we could do it now,” Hermione said. “While we aren’t stuck waiting to be filled up by whatever creature he’s whoring us out to next. But he put contraceptives in our food; Ron couldn’t even knock you up.”

“Nothing stopping us from trying,” Harry said, and laughed when she mounted him without any further enticement.

~*~

More often than not they went everywhere together. Fucked in nearly every room to which they had access.

Occasionally they separated—Hermione to the library, Ron to a small room with an enchanted chess board, and Harry to what was once the Chamber of Secrets.

It took him a full month to work up the courage to get into the kraken’s pool. The kraken was gone, just as Ron had claimed. Every once in a while Harry thought he saw movement out of the corner of his eye, but nothing was ever there when he looked closer.

The water was cool and dark. Having spent so little time clean since the end of the war, it felt like a blessing.

Voldemort stopped spiking their food with contraceptives a month before their resting period was set to end, and moved them to separate rooms. He continued to allow them to roam the castle, but paintings of any number of unsavory witches and wizards, from Grindelwald to Umbridge, suddenly hung on every wall, all too eager to rat them out if they so much as took their tea together.

Harry spent more and more time in the kraken’s pool.

Lost track of the time, one evening.

A tentacle curled around him just as he breached the surface. He gasped, struggling as it pulled him back underwater. Screamed when it spun him, finding himself face-to-face with the kraken. Its eyes were as big as his head, with bloodshot golden irises and pupils the size of Harry’s head.

He thrashed in its grip, lungs burning. Choked down air when the kraken raised him back out of the water. Its head bobbed up to the surface, watching him with something like curiosity.

“I can’t,” he said. Coughed and spat up some water. “I can’t breathe underwater without a spell or a potion.”

The kraken blinked at him. Its head disappeared back under the murky water. Returned a moment later, a tentacle offering him a slimy ball of gillyweed.

He stared at it. Licked his lips and said, “Thank, I mean, thank you, but I think, uh, I think I’d rather not. I’d like to go back to shore, please.”

It blinked at him again. The tentacle holding him took him to the edge of the pool and set him down gingerly. The other tentacle offered him the gillyweed again.

“Not right now,” Harry said. The tentacle waved the gillyweed at him until he took it. “Thanks, I guess.”

The tentacle tapped him on the shoulder when he turned to leave. Made some sort of motion at him before it, and the kraken, disappeared back into the pool.

He stood there, clutching the gillyweed. Every muscle was tense, his weight shifted to the leg furthest from the pool. He jumped when the kraken reappeared.

It set something on the ground gingerly and beckoned him forward.

He inched closer. The thing on the ground shifted and he froze.

The tiny little kraken stretched its multitude of tentacles. Its skin was the same blood red of the gargantuan kraken behind it, but its eyes were a very familiar shade of green.

“Oh,” he said, voice soft and hoarse, arms curling around his stomach. “Oh, is that, is it one of mine? I mean, one of the ones I carried?”

The kraken blinked at him again. A few tentacles brought sand up from the pool’s floor and spread it on the ground. Spelled out ‘ours’ in a shaky script. Then ‘big girl first.’

“The first female I, er, laid?”

The kraken nodded. ‘Many girl now sleep.’

It scooped the hatchling up.

Harry’s entire body jerked, torn between the desire to touch her and get as far away from her sire as possible.

She waved a little tentacle at him before disappearing back into the water.

‘Come again eat weed see,’ the kraken wrote. Waved him away with one of its tentacles. ‘Late go.’

He scurried away.

Found himself unable to tell Ron and Hermione of the encounter. Hermione went straight back to the library the next day, and Ron to his chess.

Harry went back to the Chamber. Tore off and ate some of the gillyweed and dove into the pool.

He swam aimlessly for a time, the kraken nowhere in sight, before finding himself at an opening that led to the lake.

The kraken was there. Around it swam the multitudes of its—and Harry’s and Ron’s and Hermione’s—offspring. Most shared its coloring, but some were tinted orange, others brown, and still others were an inky black.

They surrounded him as soon as they saw him, a myriad of multicolored tentacles caressing him and tugging him out into the lake.

‘Many boy many girl,’ the kraken wrote into the sand. ‘Not right but soon more?’

“I don’t know what you mean,” he said. The words sounded strange to him in the water, but the kraken seemed to have no problem understanding.

‘Body wrong,’ the kraken wrote. ‘Tight dry now soon better ready more?’

“You.” Harry’s chest constricted, heartbeat quickening. “You want more?”

‘Few left few want many many boy many many girl also want?’

“No,” Harry said, wrapping his arms around his stomach. “No, I…I never wanted any.”

The kraken’s tentacles scrunched up. ‘Often ready must want?’

“There’s a potion,” Harry said. “He gives us a potion and we, we can’t help but want.”

The kraken blinked at him. Shooed the hatchlings away. ‘No want often ready sorry.’ It underlined ‘sorry’ several times.

“You didn’t know.” He wasn’t sure if it was a statement or a question. “You thought we wanted to, to lay these eggs for you?”

The kraken circled ‘often ready’ and pointed at it. ‘Few left want many V promise many give many.’

“V.” He frowned at the letter. “Voldemort? Voldemort said he’d give you lots of hatchlings?”

The kraken jabbed a tentacle at ‘often ready’ again, its other tentacles wringing together.

“He brought us to you and we always wanted to make more,” Harry said, putting a hand over his mouth. “You didn’t know we were being forced.”

‘Go no come again sorry,’ it wrote. ‘Sorry.’

Harry opened his mouth to say more. Closed it. Pursed his lips together and nodded, swimming back into the pool. Did laps until the gillyweed wore off with nary a tentacle in sight.

~*~

He ate more of the gillyweed the next day and went back into the pool. Swam to the opening that lead to the lake.

The kraken was nowhere in sight, but the hatchlings flocked around him. Caressed his skin, especially fascinated by his fingers and toes. A few of the larger ones poked his stomach.

The kraken swept them all away with a few angry swipes of its tentacles.

‘No come back,’ it wrote, jabbing a tentacle at him.

Harry clenched his jaw. “I decided I want to show you how to make me ready.”

It stared at him.

“That is, I mean, I want to give you more hatchlings,” he said, crossing his arms over his chest. “If you don’t want more that’s fine, but I decided I do. If you do.”

‘Want?’

“Yes. You didn’t know what was happening, and you’re not a bad sort, now I’ve spent more time with you besides just when you knock me up. And,” he glanced past the kraken, where the hatchlings were watching, “and they’re kind of, you know, cute. I, I’d like to make more.”

‘Mind change tell,’ the kraken wrote.

“I will,” Harry said. “You, too.”

The kraken nodded and drew a smiley face. Shooed the hatchlings away and took Harry back into the Chamber’s pool.

He ate more of the gillyweed, just in case.

Faced the kraken. Floated awkwardly.

“You should touch me,” he said, licking his lips. His eyes closed at the first touch against his skin. Flushed when the tentacle stroked his side.

He forced his eyes open. Grasped a mushroom-tipped tentacle and led it to his lips. Fingers running up and down it, he nuzzled it with his nose. Licked the tip. Eased it into his mouth.

He smiled when he felt it shudder. Sucked. Let his hands drift away as his mouth took over.

Locked eyes with the kraken as he ran his hands down his body, one teasing his cock while the other slid up and down the crack of his arse.

His eyelids fluttered when tentacles followed the trails of his hands. One caressed the hand wrapped around his cock. Another nudged his arse.

His hole welcomed the tentacle pressing into it. Hand pushed out of the way, he reached up and started playing with his nipples. Moaned when more tentacles took that over, too.

He pushed the tentacle out of his mouth, gasping and grunting.

“More,” he said, jacking the tentacle with his hand. “Harder, please. You, uhn, feel so g-good.”

The kraken fucked into him harder, tentacles bracing him so he could push back to meet its thrusts.

“Almost, I’m almost,” he said, crying out as the tentacle on his cock quickened its strokes. Another fondled his balls and he came, clenching around the tentacle as it filled him.

“Again,” he said, breathless and flushed. “Can you? Again.”

The kraken pulled its tentacle out just long enough to replace it with another.

~*~

“You filthy little whore.”

Harry’s cheek stung, one arm flying out just in time to keep his head from cracking against the floor. The other wrapped around the bulge of his stomach.

“You’re due at the giants in two weeks,” Voldemort said. “And now you’re useless to them for another month after that.”

Hermione cleared her throat. “Gestation for giants is two years. I should hardly think a month will make much difference.”

“It makes all the difference,” Voldemort said. “Two years is enough time as it is, and you’ll have to feed the little parasites for six months after. You’ve others to satisfy after the giants, and a month will very much make a difference with them.”

“So abort them,” Hermione said.

“He’ll lose the kraken if he does that,” Ron said. “Just use that potion of Snape’s to induce labor a month early. If gestation is two years, one month won’t hurt the baby.”

“No,” Voldemort said, narrowing his eyes at Harry. “No, if the whore wants to stay pregnant all the time, he can and he will.”

“We all stay—” Ron grimaced as the door slammed shut.

Hermione sighed and helped Harry up. “Oh, Harry, what were you thinking?”

“He wasn’t,” Ron said. “If he was, he’d have taken one look at the kraken and never gone back to the Chamber.”

“I saw the hatchlings,” Harry said. “And I talked to the kraken; it didn’t know we were being forced.”

“What does that matter?” Ron asked. “So what it didn’t know? It doesn’t change what it did, Harry. I can’t believe you let it fuck you again.”

“When I told it about the potion, it made me leave,” Harry said. “It was devastated.”

“I just don’t know how you could stand to even look at it,” Hermione said, hugging herself.

“It was just as much of a victim as we were,” Harry said. “Imagine wanting something and getting it, and then finding out you got it the way the kraken got the hatchlings. I just didn’t want it to look at them and blame them for what happened, or, or hate itself for making them when it had no idea what was going on. That’s not fair to any of them.”

“It’s not exactly fair to us, either, Harry,” Ron said.

“Well there’s nothing we can do about it now, is there?” Harry asked. Slumped in his bed, rubbing his hands over his face. “I don’t want to argue. I’m tired and my stomach hurts.”

“And whose fault is that?” Hermione said, and pulled her bed away from his and Ron’s, laying down facing away from him without another word.

Ron opened his mouth to say something. Shut it with a sigh and joined her.

~*~

Harry woke to a contraction. He forced himself to his feet and out of the room, ignoring the beds Ron and Hermione had vacated a month before.

He leaned against the wall every few feet as he made his way to the Chamber, breathing hard through the contractions and willing the eggs to stay put for a while longer.

The kraken peered up at him from the water. One tentacle offered him gillyweed while another stroked his belly. Wrapped around him and hefted him gently into the water after he ate.

He let the kraken pull him underwater, hissing as another contraction hit. The kraken spread his legs, still massaging his stomach.

Gritting his teeth together, he bared down. His arse burned as the first egg slipped out and into the eager arms of one of the older hatchlings. Another followed, and then a third, fourth, and fifth.

By the eighth and last he could only slump into the kraken’s tentacles. Smiled weakly as it caressed his face and maneuvered him so he could see the sandy floor of the pool.

‘V above,’ it wrote. ‘Stay?’

He shook his head, squeezing the tentacle. “Time to go. See if he’ll let me come again after and I will.”

The kraken blew out a huffy stream of bubbles. ‘Rest?’

“He was impatient enough seven months ago about us needing a break,” Harry said. “I’ll be alright.”

‘Thank,’ it wrote. ‘Return soon.’

He nuzzled the tentacle on his cheek. Closed his eyes so he didn’t have to read anything else or see the hatchlings cradling the new eggs.

The kraken lifted him back up out of the water. Voldemort threw a towel at him and led him out of the Chamber.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From Wikipedia: In Herman Melville's 1851 novel Moby-Dick (Chapter 59. Squid.) narrator Ishmael alludes to "the great Kraken of Bishop Pontoppodan," then concludes the chapter: "By some naturalists who have vaguely heard rumors of the mysterious creature, here spoken of, it is included among the class of cuttle-fish, to which, indeed, in certain external respects it would seem to belong, but only as the Anak of the tribe."


	6. Fee Fi Fo Fum...

“The giants and I had a long discussion about your…indiscretion,” Voldemort said, leading Harry outside to the Apparition point. “We reached an agreement on your punishment; I think they were rather glad of all this, actually. They’ll certainly come out the better for it.”

“Alright.” Harry tugged the towel tighter as they appeared in a cavernous room.

“We’ve greatly shortened the gestation period.” Voldemort handed him the now-familiar replenishing potion, which he drank. Grimaced at the taste even as he felt his insides and arse heal. “And with it the length of time you have to nurse the babes; no sense overloading you. The giants requested one other change, on top of the ones you already needed to allow you to carry them in the first place.”

Voldemort held up another potion, this one unfamiliar. An ugly smile stretched across his face as Harry drank it.

“They decided they would like you much better without that pesky cock.”

Harry cried out, falling to the floor as pain flared in his genitals. His cock and balls shrank and shriveled into his body, reforming into a cunt. His pelvis cracked and widened in preparation for the huge babes to whom he would soon be giving birth.

Then all of Harry grew. His bones ached and burned, skin pinched and pulled, muscles contracted and released until he knelt panting on the floor, his whole body shuddering.

When he looked down Voldemort was gone. The floor shook, heralding the arrival of a giant.

The giant grasped him by the arm and threw him onto the bed. Grabbed his ankles and pushed his legs up. Thrust into him all the way to the hilt.

He hadn’t been given a purple potion.

He screamed. His cunt was wet enough to allow the giant entrance, but it gave Harry no comfort or pleasure. After a mere four thrusts the giant came, dropping Harry’s feet.

It pushed him away, collapsing on the bed with a huff and immediately going to sleep.

Cunt throbbing, the rest of him still sore from his transformations, he rolled away. Curled up as much as he could, tears streaming down his cheeks.

He had barely started to fall asleep when the giant woke and fucked him again.

~*~

The giant left the next morning and did not return. A tasteless green potion and a bowl of porridge was at his door, and appeared there again twice more. This continued with three meals every day. The empty dishes were never removed.

His stomach quickly swelled. By the time he had thirty-nine sets of his daily bowls and vials, his stomach was as large as it had ever been just before giving birth.

When he woke on the fortieth day, his bed was drenched. For a moment he feared he had pissed himself, but a contraction quickly disabused him of the notion.

“Help me,” he said when it passed, forcing himself to sit up. “Please, the baby’s coming.”

Nothing.

He rolled himself over. Pushed himself up onto his hands and knees. Yelled and heaved through the next contraction.

He grasped the headboard with one hand. Reached down to touch his cunt, already stretched wide and ready. He sobbed as another contraction hit. Bared down, panting and whining as a burning sensation heralded the crowning of the child. The head was huge, his cunt feeling as though it was being ripped apart by the time it slipped all of the way out.

He gasped for air, burying his face in his arm. There was only pain with the next contraction, no matter how much he tried to push. He laid down on his side and shifted himself onto his back, one hand making sure the baby was safe. Nothing happened through that contraction, either.

He sat up and squirmed until his back was pressed to the headboard. Dug his heels into the bed as much as he could and pushed. Grasped the baby’s head in both hands and gently pulled.

Two more contractions ripped through him before the baby slid the rest of the way out. Hands shaking, he wiped off its scrunched, crying face with the edge of the sheet. Tugged on the umbilical cord until the placenta rushed out.

A giant woman came into the room. She tied off the umbilical cord and cut it. Took the baby out of the room for a moment. When she returned, it was clean. She all but shoved it into his arms.

She forced him into a chair next to the bed and changed the sheets. Moved him back to the bed. Glared at him for a long while before grabbing one of his breasts and pressing it to the baby’s mouth. It latched on and began to suckle with gusto.

She held a potion up. He drank it, recognizing the sickly sweet taste of a replenishing potion. Wriggled as his stomach and cunt returned to their original size. She put the empty vial in a large basket with the bloody sheets, then gathered up the dishes by the door. Flounced out of the room.

A male giant entered the room, dragging a bassinet in behind it. It was naked, its cock hard.

“No,” Harry said, clutching the feeding babe and using his feet to push himself away. “Please, no. At least wait until the baby—”

He yelped and struggled as the giant grabbed his ankles and dragged him to the edge of the bed. His breast popped out of the baby’s mouth. Its immediate wail drowned out Harry’s shout when the giant thrust into him.

The giant pushed him down on the bed, grabbing his breast and offering it to the baby. The baby grunted as it began to suck again, content in spite of the constant jostling of the giant fucking Harry.

It didn’t take long for the giant to orgasm. After pulling out, the giant rearranged Harry on the bed.

The baby was asleep, nipple still in its mouth. The giant lifted it off of Harry’s chest and placed it in the bassinet.

The giant climbed onto the bed. Grabbed Harry’s thighs and shoved them apart. Fucked back into him in spite of its cock being only half-hard.

~*~

Just as with the first child, it was no time at all before the tiny bump of his stomach grew into a huge bulge. In the last week of the pregnancy, Harry didn’t even have to hold the baby. Just laid it on the swell of his stomach and sat back while it ate its fill.

He had just finished feeding when the first contraction hit on the fortieth day. Forced himself out of bed to put the baby in its bassinet. Turned to go back to the bed.

The pain of the next contraction made him bend over into an awkward crouch, clutching his stomach as his waters broke. He tried to stand to make his way back to the bed, but another contraction stopped him.

He screamed as the child crowned, excruciating in its suddenness. Fell to his knees. Grasped at a spare blanket hanging on the edge of the bassinet and shoved it under himself. Searing pain shot through him as he bore down, nails scraping against the stone floor.

He reached down as the child’s head passed through his cunt. With a great push the child slid out and into his waiting hand. He pulled it up and clutched it to his chest. He rocked back and forth, sobbing as loudly as the babe in his arms.

The giantess from his first birth came into the room, shrieking at the sight of him. Pushed him up. Cut the child’s umbilical cord and scurried out with it. Still crying, he slumped forward until his forehead touched the ground.

Another giant woman came in and helped him birth the placenta. She gently washed him and all but carried him to the bed. Held the replenishing potion to his lips until he drank it.

The first woman returned with the child and pressed it to his breast until it began to drink. He winced; the nipple was still sore from the first child’s suckling.

He felt tears sting in his eyes when the women left but choked them back.

Stomach in knots, he waited for the next giant to come in to impregnate him.

None came.

~*~

When he woke the next morning, both babies were gone. He sat up, heart thumping wildly in his chest.

“Fenrir and I were discussing something and decided to try it out,” Voldemort said, laughably small on Harry’s bedside table. Beside him was a vial of an unfamiliar orange potion, and beside that was a very familiar purple potion. It was a much lighter shade than Harry remembered. “The giants are very excited to let us use you—and, in a way, them—as a test subject.”

“Where are the babies?” he asked.

“The first is done nursing thanks to our accelerated timeline, and Ron and Hermione were given a potion to stimulate their milk.” Voldemort waved a careless hand, dismissing the subject. “Don’t you want to know what you’re to be the test subject for?”

Harry shrugged. “I’ll figure it out, I expect.”

Voldemort snorted. “Very well, then, I can see you’re eager to get started. Here, then, this first.”

Voldemort motioned at the orange potion. Harry drank it and fell forward as his insides twisted around themselves.

“You know what happens next.” With a wave of his wand and a loud crack, Voldemort was gone.

The ground quaked. The vial on the nightstand shuddered. Taking a deep breath, Harry grabbed it and tossed it back.

His mouth fell open, heat slamming into him. He reached down between his legs and found both his cunt and arse drenched, a wet spot already forming under him.

He drew himself up on his knees and ran a finger along the folds of his cunt, becoming so lost in the new, heady sensation that he was only vaguely aware of the door slamming open.

A giant sat on the bed in front of him. His mouth fell open at the sight of the giant’s flushed cock. It held its arms out and he stumbled forward until he was straddling it. It put its hands on his hips and lowered him onto its cock.

He gasped when another giant came up behind him. Its cock nudged up against his arse. Thumbs spread his cheeks. He arched his back, moaning when it thrust into him.

He quivered in the arms of the giants as they fucked him, haltingly at first until they fell into a rough rhythm. They massaged his breasts with calloused hands, squeezing when he clenched down on their cocks. Milk dribbled out of him and the giant in front of him leaned down to take a nipple in its mouth. Harry groaned and wrapped his arms around the giant’s head, pulling it closer as it drank.

The other giant reached down, fingers tracing around the cock in his cunt. Brushed up against something that made him shiver. Did it again with purpose until the pleasure coiling in Harry’s stomach burst. He tightened around both giants, grunting as they devolved into wild thrusts, pushing him into one another. The giant in his arse came, trembling against him as it shot its load so deep inside him he thought he could taste salt.

He whined as it pulled away, come spurting out after it. The giant in front of him reached around to fondle his arse in tandem with every snap of its hips. It pulled his cheeks wide apart and Harry cried out as a third giant, its cock much larger than the other, thrust into his arse. Harry’s hole burned deliciously as it stretched.

The third giant leaned back and pulled Harry against its chest. This allowed the first to speed up the movements of its hips, its balls slapping obscenely against Harry’s perineum. It pinched and twisted his nipples and he orgasmed with a shout. The lips of his cunt quivered around the giant’s cock, trying to pull it in as far as it could go. The giant came, and was still coming when it pulled out of him, spurts of come hitting his cunt and thighs.

He opened his eyes to watch yet another giant take its place in front of him. It gathered up the other giant’s come from around Harry’s still tingling cunt and stuffed it into him. He moved his hips to help it along, only impeded by the drag of the cock in his arse. He spread his legs wide when the giant took its cock in hand, precome oozing from the tip and dripping into the mess of Harry’s cunt.

The giant behind him grabbed his hips while the other giant fucked into his cunt. Dragged its hands down to his thighs and pushed them even farther apart so the other giant had better access. It was slow and shallow at first but quickened and deepened until all Harry could do was hold on.

His thighs quaked as they fucked him. Head dropped back onto the shoulder of the giant behind him.

The giant in front of him came, fingernails biting into his hips. It pulled out but didn’t leave the bed, instead moving back. Its cock was still half-hard, covered in slick and come.

The giant behind him pushed on his back until he had to lean forward. He caught himself on his arms, back arched, one leg dangling off the bed while the other was pressed almost flat to the mattress. It continued to fuck into his arse, seeming unable to help itself.

The giant in front of him inched forward, tangling its fingers in his hair while its free hand stroked its cock. His lips parted around a moan as he realized what they wanted. He lapped at the rapidly hardening cock in front of him, groaning at the taste of salty skin and his own juices.

The fingers in his hair tightened. He opened his mouth wide and bobbed his head forward so he could wrap his lips around the cock.

The giant behind him thrust harder. It forced the other’s cock even further into Harry’s mouth. Harry swallowed every inch he was given. His jaw ached as the giant pushed past his gag reflex and into his throat. The giant’s pubic hair tickled his nose.

The thrusts into his arse grew frantic, that giant’s balls slapping against his thighs while the others brushed up against his chin. His nipples brushed up against the bed, tightening. He moaned around the cock in his mouth at the sensation.

He took a deep breath as the cock pulled out of his mouth, gasping when the first spurt of come hit his face. He stuck out his tongue to catch as much come as he could, swallowing eagerly until the giant pushed him up and back onto the other giant. It shoved its fingers back into his cunt, twisting and pulling and hitting what felt like every pleasure center he had, throwing him over the edge into an orgasm that made his entire body light up.

With a final, vicious thrust, the giant behind him came.

~*~

Harry woke alone.

In one corner of the room sat a large barrel, steam wafting from the top. Beside it was a small table with a washcloth and a bar of soap, as well as a neatly folded towel.

He clambered out of the bed, aching in place he was sure had never been touched. Whimpered as he climbed into the barrel—he hadn’t been able to properly wash since leaving the kraken’s pool; hadn’t even seen hot water since the war.

He sank as low as he could, the water closing over his head. Came up just enough to breathe through his nose. He didn’t bother to wash himself until the water became lukewarm, too busy enjoying the sweet heat of it to care about cleanliness.

He scrubbed himself until his skin was red and raw. Attacked his hair with soap, rinsed it out, and soaped it right back up again. Massaged his scalp as he ducked under the water. Ran his fingers through his hair and was shocked when, tangle-free and too wet to curl, it fell past his hips.

By the time he finally left the barrel his teeth were chattering. He toweled himself off, wrapped his hair, curled up in bed, and fell asleep the instant his head touched the pillow.

~*~

He woke a few days later to a churning stomach.

Had just enough time to roll over to the side of the bed before he began to vomit. He could hardly hear it splatter to the floor over the sounds of his continued retching, his entire body heaving. It seemed like hours by the time he finished, tears streaming down his face, bile and spittle on his mouth, snot dripping from his nose.

He gasped for air, chest aching with the need for it, as he sat up. Stood and stumbled his way over to the barrel. Washed his face and gargled with the cold, dirty water. Slumped over as his stomach—already growing around the lives inside it—twisted again. Dry heaved against the barrel.

“Oh, Harry.”

He looked up at the sound of Hermione’s voice. She and Ron rushed to his side.

“It’s going to be alright, mate,” Ron said as they carried him back to the bed. He grabbed Harry’s dirty towel and mopped up the worst of the vomit on the floor.

Hermione ran a hand over Harry’s face, tutting at him. “I knew it was bad but this is just horrid, forcing two years into a measly month.”

Harry grunted, leaning into her. She wrapped her arms around his shoulders, pulling his head down onto her bosom. Exhausted, he tapped her tummy with a finger.

“Still flat.”

“Three months into a two year gestation period?” She snorted. “Harry, we aren’t even halfway through our first trimester.”

He huffed, eyes fluttering closed as she ran her fingers through his hair.

“No sleeping,” Ron said, sitting on the bed next to them. “Porridge is lukewarm but you need to eat. And drink the nutrients potion.”

Groaning, Harry curled into Hermione.

“At least try,” Hermione said, pushing him away.

“This first, it’s the important one,” Ron said, holding the potion up to his lips.

He drank it. Wrinkled his nose when Hermione held up a spoon of porridge.

“Want this instead?” she asked, proffering one swollen teat with her free hand.

He considered for a moment. Nodded and leaned forward, wrapping his lips around the puffy nipple. Sucked until, with a soft sigh from Hermione, milk gushed into his mouth. He closed his eyes again and rested his hands on her hips.

She pushed him onto his back, straddling him while he drank. Tangled her fingers in his hair to pull him closer.

He opened his eyes again when she leaned further until she was practically laying on him, her breathing turned into hitched gasps. Her head fell forward, hair curtaining around them, mouth hanging open. He shifted and glanced around. Realized when he couldn’t see Ron that the other man was down by their feet, mouth attached to her cunt with the same eagerness of Harry’s on her teat.

“Full?” she asked, watching him through hooded eyes.

He shook his head, drawing her other nipple into his mouth. She whimpered, sucking her bottom lip into her mouth as her back arched to push her breast closer.

“Your,” she said, panting for air. “Your cock is gone.”

He hummed, pulling away when she cried out above him. Droplets of her come dripped down Ron’s fingers and onto Harry’s stomach and groin.

“Another potions experiment, I expect,” Ron said.

“My point was he should let you eat him out,” Hermione said, rolling off of Harry and collapsing on the bed next to him. “You’re quite good at it.”

“He knows. I’ve given him blowies before.” Ron rolled his eyes.

“Cunt’s different from a cock,” Harry said, spreading his legs with a wan smile.

A slow smile spread across Ron’s face as he leaned down.

~*~

“Four months in and you’re still hardly showing.” Harry grimaced and clutched Hermione’s hand as another contraction hit.

“Still barely into our first trimesters,” she said, petting his sweaty hair with her free hand.

“And you’re bigger than you should be,” Ron said. “Push, push, there you go.”

“Well there’s.” Harry cut himself off with a scream as the child breached, its giant head forcing him wide open as it inched out. “Oh, Merlin, it burns.”

“Almost, that’s the ticket,” Hermione said, hugging him when the child finally slipped into Ron’s hands. “Just the afterbirth and you’re done, Harry, you did so good.”

“No,” he said with a groan, stomach already twinging. “I’m not. There’s at least three more.”

“Three more what?” Ron asked as he cut the umbilical cord and went about cleaning the baby.

“Babies.” He sucked in a sharp breath, belly clenching. “See? Another contraction.”

“How in Merlin’s name do you know you’re having quadruplets?” Hermione asked, untangling her hand from his. “Ron, give that one to me and get back down there.”

“Remember when you—blimey, this one’s coming fast.” He breathed hard through the contraction, sobbing when the baby crowned. “You said, you said b, bitches can get knocked up by more than one sire, back when we were with Fenrir. This is, oh, oh, oh, this is another experiment and it’s, ah, it’s successful.”

“Bastards,” Ron said under his breath, sitting back down on the edge of the bed as the baby squalled and squirmed in his arms.

“You mean bloody monsters,” Hermione said, voice steadily rising into a shrill pitch. “What in the bloody hell are they thinking? Our bodies are being put through enough shit as it is.”

“Be mad later, help with this now,” Ron said, shoving the shrieking baby at her as Harry moaned through another contraction.

“Buggering hell.” She took the babe, bringing it up to her other breast and pursing her lips together as it latched onto the nipple. “Next giant cock I see, I’m biting it off, see if I don’t.”

Ron snorted, shifting to place his own cock further from her sight. “We all know you will.”

“And best hope I never get my hands on a wand,” she said, leaning over a little to press against Harry. “You’re doing great, love.”

“Doesn’t feel great,” he said, stomach heaving around the third baby. “Merlin, you’d think they’d just crawl right out by now.”

“Voldemort probably made sure it would always hurt. The replenishing potions, I’ll bet.” Hermione’s nostrils flared. “You’re all bloody monsters.”

Her tirade continued through the birth of the other two children. With a final shout Harry collapsed into the bed, sobbing.

“Four,” she said, placing the first two babes into the crib. She stormed to the door and slammed her hand against it. “Four giant babies, are you lot mad?”

She stumbled back as the door slammed open, a giantess entering. She started forward, incensed, but an old giant came in behind the giantess and grabbed her wrists, forcing them behind her back. Held them with one hand while he forced Hermione’s mouth open with the other, heedless of her swearing and struggling. The giantess poured a potion down her throat. Pinched her nose shut as the giant clamped its hand over her mouth.

Both of them released her when she finally swallowed. She fell to her knees with a shout, wrapping her arms around her rapidly swelling stomach.

The pair turned to the bed.

Ron practically threw the baby in his arms on the bed, chair clattering to the floor as he tried to get away. They grabbed him, forcing the same potion into his mouth. He screamed as he fell back against the bed, stomach growing at the same alarming rate as Hermione’s. He slid to his hands and knees on the floor. His huge stomach shuddered as the child inside suddenly dropped into his birth canal. Water splattered down his legs.

The giantess moved to Hermione’s side as she screamed through a contraction. Blood and amniotic fluid spurted out around the baby’s crowning head.

Horrified, Harry watched as his friends suddenly and violently gave birth. Both babes were brought to him after being cleaned off. The giantess carefully laid them down and took Harry’s other two—both sated and sleeping, though how Harry didn’t know. She put them in the bassinet and put Ron and Hermione’s babies in either of his arms.

The giant forced Hermione and Ron to take replenishing potions, immediately chased by another Harry didn’t recognize until it replaced Ron’s cock with a cunt, though it had no visible effect on Hermione.

The giantess held a replenishing potion to Harry’s lips and glared at him until he drank it. She took the babies away as they finished eating and put them in the crib.

The giant jerked Ron and Hermione up off the floor and threw them on the bed as the giantess left the room and returned with three purple potions. She shoved them into their hands and dragged one of the bassinets out, her companion close behind with the other two, as the room began to shudder with the footsteps of eager, horny giants.

Sobbing, the three of them drank the potions. The painful births and all that came after turned into nothing but a hazy memory as heat coursed through their veins. Slick gushed from their cunts and arses.

Giants filtered into the room, shoving each other out of the way in their haste to get to the bed.

Harry threw himself at the first giant to get close. They toppled to the floor. He quickly recovered and grabbed the giant’s cock, sinking his sopping cunt down onto it. He threw his head back, arching to better present his arse when another giant’s cock nudged against it. Pistoned his hips back and forth so one giant or the other was always buried inside him.

His mouth fell open when a third giant stepped over the first, cock bouncing into his view. He reached up to pull it closer until he could wrap his lips around it. Grunted when the giant grabbed his head and fucked his mouth.

The other two giants started fondling his sensitive breasts. He moaned around the cock in his mouth as they fucked harder into him. The giant in his mouth pulled out and sprayed jizz all over his face and neck. He came and shouted when the other two thrust deep into him at the same time and painted his insides with come.

He shuddered as another wave of heat passed over him, a mixture of come and his own slick trickling down his thighs.

A giant grabbed him by the hair and yanked him away from the others. He went eagerly, as the giant pushed him stomach down on the bed and entered his arse, clearly intent on having him to itself. Its hands were bruising on his hips, one of its feet nudging his legs further apart, but he didn’t care. Fisted his hands in the blankets and fucked himself back onto the giant’s cock as much as he could. The giant’s balls slapped against his thighs. His breasts ground against the sheets, pleasure jolting through him with every movement.

A giant knelt in front of him and fucked into his swollen mouth. His cheeks hollowed as he sucked eagerly, leaning on one arm so he could use the freed hand to fondle the giant’s balls. The giant grabbed his head and thrust deeper into his throat. Shoved him away when its balls began to tighten in his hand.

It grasped his arms and jerked him up, crowding against him. Pulled his legs up until his knees rested on either side of it on the edge of the bed. Lined its cock up and pushed into his cunt, quickly setting a ruthless pace with the giant buried in Harry’s arse.

Jaw sore, gasping for air, Harry opened his eyes.

“Grawp?” he asked, blinking at the giant in front of him.

The giant tilted its head to one side, eyebrows furrowing.

“Oh,” he said, eyelids fluttering closed, hips snapping harder to meet every thrust. Grasped Grawp’s shoulders and imagined Hagrid rocking his niece or nephew—almost too big to fit in his arms, even newly born—to sleep. “Oh, yes. Come on, come on.”

Both giants came almost at the same time. The one in his arse Harry hardly noticed leaving. Instead he pushed Grawp to the bed, riding the softened cock still inside him until it stiffened. He swiveled his hips, squeezed his vaginal muscles, grounded his hands on Grawp’s chest. His mouth fell open when the giant’s hands came up to his hips, helping him to fuck down harder.

He hissed irritably at the break in their rhythm when another giant pressed up behind him. Swatted at it and cried out when it grabbed his wrist and twisted his arm behind his back.

It shoved him forward and he shuddered, the force of the movement pushing Grawp’s cock even deeper into his cunt. His heat curled tighter and tighter in him as the giant entered his arse. One thrust, two, and his orgasm crashed over him. Another quickly followed as the first sent the two giants into a frenzy, their thrusts becoming frantic. It was so intense he couldn’t have said when either of the giants had one of their own, though they were both pulling away by the time it faded.

He grabbed for Grawp’s hand weakly, smiling when Grawp looked back at him with something like recognition in his eyes.

Then another giant grabbed his hips, and the heat began to gather back in his belly.

~*~

“Never felt this disgusting,” Ron said sullenly the next morning, a baby in each arm sucking noisily on the closest teat. “Not even with Bill.”

“Maybe they’ll provide baths again,” Harry said, wistful. “First hot bath I’ve had since the war.”

“That would be lovely.” Hermione shifted and blew a piece of hair out of her face. “We’ll die if they keep us doing this, you know.”

“We’ve known that since we started.” Ron hissed, shifting one of the babies off of his breast and moving it to his shoulder to burp.

“Much sooner than I anticipated, I mean,” she said as she put her first baby in its bassinet. “Do you realize we’ve been pregnant for nearly three years straight, and poor Harry’s been pregnant for almost three and a half? And the, the number of children for some of those pregnancies is staggering. Our bodies aren’t made for this much stress.”

Ron let out a sharp, humorless bark of laughter. Motioned at Harry and himself. “Our bodies were never made for this at all. We’ve been taking the replenishing potions, and—”

“They can only do so much, that’s why we took a break. If we continue at this pace, especially now they’ve decided to use more than one sire to impregnate us at a time, we’ll be dead within the next three years. We won’t even see twenty-five.”

Harry looked from the babes in his arms, to her, to Ron, and back down. Shrugged. “You say that like it’s a bad thing.”

~*~

“This is my favorite part,” Harry said as one of the babies shifted, the impression of its foot outlined in the skin of his stomach. “Feeling them move, I mean.”

“It’s freaky,” Ron said, wrinkling his nose.

Hermione frowned down at her stomach. “Just reminds me how much closer I am to labor.”

“Never feels real until this, to me.” Harry put a finger on the foot and followed it as it moved.

Ron snorted. “Don’t much want it to be real, thanks. If I woke up tomorrow and this was all some sort of bizarre dream I’d—well, first I’d probably ask Mum if she knows a good shrink, but then I’d be relieved.”

“Only a few more days,” Harry said, rubbing his hands over his belly. “Then maybe we’ll be done, here. Surely the giants won’t need more after this; we’re bearing them a small army.”

“We had a lot more than this for the kraken,” Hermione said, arching an eyebrow at him. “Especially you.”

“The kraken was the last of its kind. There are still lots of giants. Maybe not in this particular…clan, or whatever you call them. But in general.”

“I’m not going to look forward to us being done until Voldemort comes and takes us away,” Ron said. “And even then—well, it’s not like we’ll be going someplace better, is it?”

“Probably not.” Harry rubbed his belly, sighing and leaning back against the headboard. “Maybe we’ll get another break.”

“After the stunt you pulled?” Ron shook his head. “We aren’t likely to get another break ever again.”

“That,” Hermione said, grimacing as the babe in her arms suckled too hard, “depends entirely on how many more creatures he wants us to provide offspring for. He’ll do what he has to in order to keep us as prime breeding stock until he has no more use for us.”

Ron snorted. “And next time he’ll make sure we can’t get near any unapproved cocks between creatures.”

~*~

Harry’s head dropped back onto the pillow. He gasped for air through his crying, cunt stretched wide and burning with every centimeter. He choked down a deep breath, fingernails biting into the palms of his hands as he pushed.

The baby’s head broke free. There was a moment of relief before another contraction ripped through him. He pushed again, unable to stop his mouth from opening to let out an agonized scream.

He reached down to tug at the baby’s head. The pain increased as his cunt contorted around it. With a final push, it slid the rest of the way out. He let out a sob, trembling, his legs falling open. Watched through bleary eyes as the giantess at the edge of the bed finally moved.

She picked the squalling baby up. Refused to look at him as she cut the umbilical cord and cleaned the baby off.

“Why won’t, won’t you h, help us?” he asked, hiccupping through the words. Groaned when he felt the next contraction. “Oh, no, no, no.”

She continued to ignore him.

Panting and sobbing in equal turns, he glanced down at the bed. Soaked with blood and fluids from his first three births, it looked like a scene straight out of a horror movie.

He wrapped his arms around his middle as another contraction hit. Let his hands fall to his sides when it passed and gripped the bedsheets. Spread his legs. Grit his teeth. Curled forward and pushed with the next contraction.

He was hoarse by the time the last babe (number six) was being cleaned, face covered in sweat and tears and snot. Still weeping and sore, he wished he could turn on his side and roll up into a ball.

“All done here?” Voldemort asked from the bedside table.

Harry had the sudden thought of how easy it would be to just reach over and squish him. Couldn’t find even a hint of the energy to do so.

“They’ve enough milk mothers to take care of this lot,” Voldemort said, pushing a potion toward him.

Harry frowned. He would never know which of the babes he’d just suffered through were Hagrid’s nieces or nephews.

Just as well, he decided as he drank the potion and his body—stomach, breasts, and all—returned to its normal size and configuration.

And just as well he’d never told anyone else about it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ...I smell the blood of an Englishman. ;)


	7. The Guardian of the Gate of Hades

“We won’t be going home just yet,” Voldemort said as they stumbled after him out of the giants’ caves. “You won’t be going home for quite a while, actually.” He looked back at them, lip curling up in disgust. “Do hurry up, I don’t want to be late for dinner.”

They hurried, certain they wouldn’t want to know what he had planned if they were late.

“Take each other’s hands,” he said, grip painfully tight on one of Harry’s wrists.

They did, jerking when he Apparated.

They gaped up at the huge mansion looming in front of them. Something tugged at the corner of Harry’s mind; for some reason, this place looked familiar.

Voldemort tugged on Harry’s arm and led them through the cast iron gates. One of the mansion’s doors opened, a house elf ushering them inside.

“Master is knowing you is here, Dark Lord,” it said, bobbing its head at them. “Master says Osti is to be bringing you to the dining room.”

“Then bring us there,” Voldemort said with a sneer.

“Yes, Dark Lord,” Osti said, wringing its hands together as it turned away. Led them through winding corridors until they came to an expansive dining room, the table laden with rich foods.

At the head of the table, wife and son on either side, stood Lucius Malfoy.

“My Lord,” Lucius said with an illustrious bow. “Welcome back to my humble home.”

“I would have felt more welcome had I not been greeted at the door by this vermin,” Voldemort said, kicking the house elf.

“It won’t happen again, My Lord. We were merely getting the final touches ready. Osti.” Lucius looked down his nose at the elf where it was sprawled. “Why is the Dark Lord still burdened by those things?”

Osti wailed and took the chain from Voldemort, smacking itself with it and saying between blows, “Osti apologizes, Master, Osti was not thinking.”

“Our other guests will be arriving soon, Osti,” Lucius said through gritted teeth. “Put them over there and retrieve our things.”

“Yes, Master, right way,” Osti said, yanking the chain. Shoved them down on their knees atop some pillows lined up against one of the walls. Padlocked the chain to an anchor on the floor. Snapped its fingers and disappeared with a sharp crack.

“Please sit, My Lord,” Lucius said as he pulled out the chair at the head of the table.

Voldemort sat, waving a careless hand at the Malfoys to take a seat. Lucius took the one to his left. Narcissa sat next to him, and Draco took the seat on her other side.

Voldemort rested his elbows on the table, chin on his twined fingers as he regarded the Malfoys. “I am most curious, my dear Lucius. You have been ever so secretive since requesting the service of these wretched creatures. What do you have planned for the night’s entertainment?”

“It will be much better as a surprise,” Lucius said.

“It is going to be a marvelous show, My Lord,” Narcissa said with a tight smile. “Lucius has been tireless in his preparations.”

Lucius cast a malicious glance at Harry, Hermione, and Ron “You will not be disappointed.”

“In your work? Rarely,” Voldemort said.

Osti reappeared with a huge trunk. Another house elf wheeled in a massive box covered by a black cloth. Muffled flute music played inside.

“I heard we are having dinner _and_ a show, tonight,” Bellatrix Lestrange said as she swept into the room. She dropped into the chair on Voldemort’s right, clapping her hands when she saw the three against the wall. “Oh, Lucius, we will have _quite_ a show.”

More Death Eaters trickled in after her, for once free of their usual hideous masks. Some, like Fenrir Greyback, Harry recognized immediately. Others he was sure he had met on the battlefield, but didn’t know the faces of. The rest he had never seen at all, or at least never without their masks on. They all had glints in their eyes that sent shivers down his spine.

“Indeed we will,” Lucius said. “For now, everyone, please eat. We will begin the show at dessert.”

“Come now,” said Crabbe’s father. “Don’t be cruel.”

One of the female Death Eaters pouted. “Oh, Lucius, must we really wait so long?”

Lucius chuckled. “I assure you, it will be worth the wait. And you will certainly want to be focused on the show, not the food.”

“But however shall I eat when I’m so excited?” Bellatrix asked, even as she cracked a crab leg in half with a vicious snap and began to dig out the meat. “Ickle Harry Potter and his ickle friends, finally here to entertain us.” She turned on Voldemort. “I am most cross for not being allowed to watch them with the kraken at least once, My Lord.”

“I’m afraid it was necessary,” Voldemort said, dabbing his mouth with a napkin. “The kraken is quite shy when copulating. I myself was only able to watch the first time, and only then because it was so excited to play with its new toys.”

“Such a shame.” She smirked at them. “It must have been a delicious sight.”

“Indeed it was.”

“You ought to have visited while they were with me,” Fenrir said.

“And risk being bitten by one of your lot?” she asked, making a face. “No, thank you.”

“Here,” Osti said, shoving a bowl in Harry’s hands. “You is to be eating.”

Harry looked down. Gruel of some sort, off-color and lukewarm in his hands.

“You is not to be having a growling stomach during the show,” Osti said, pushing the bowl up to Harry’s mouth. “Eat.”

Harry could hardly swallow down the gritty, flavorless slop. Osti glared at him, Ron, and Hermione until they ate it all. Forced them to lick the bowls clean at the behest of one of the cackling Death Eaters.

His stomach twisted in knots as he waited to find out what entertainment he and his friends were meant to provide. Listening to the Death Eaters chat and guess at what it might be didn’t help. Given how they were chomping at the bit for their show, dinner passed far slower than Harry expected.

But finally Lucius wiped his mouth and snapped for the dessert course to be brought out. Stood as the house elves served it, the Death Eaters cheering when the last plate reached the table.

“You know the precious Boy-Who-Lived is to bear my son an heir,” Lucius said. “Narcissa and I discussed it for some time—the Weasley boy is, of course, more pure of blood, but the Potter line is stronger even after being diluted by his Mudblood slag of a mother.”

Harry’s head snapped up.

“But My Lord gifted us with all three for the duration. Which left us with the conundrum of deciding what to do with Weasley and his Mudblood slag of a girlfriend in the meantime.”

The Death Eaters laughed, offering more and more lewd suggestions.

“We decided Weasley would bear a second child for myself, in case something should happen to Draco’s heir. Not ideal, of course, but if we’ve any luck at all they’ll not inherit that ghastly orange mop.” Lucius grasped Hermione by her hair, hauling her to her feet. “But before that, I thought they should get to watch what we have planned for their dear Mudblood.”

“I can’t stand the suspense, Lucius. Please do get on with it,” Bellatrix said, other Death Eaters shouting their agreement.

“Draco, if you would,” Lucius said. Undid Hermione’s shackles with a wave of his wand.

“Yes, Father,” Draco said, voice oddly monotone. He stood and went to the trunk. Opened it. “What would you like first?”

“Heads or tails, My Lord?” Lucius asked.

The Death Eaters shouted their own suggestions as Voldemort made a show of mulling it over.

“Heads, I think,” he said, mouth curling up at one side.

Lucius clicked his tongue when Draco didn’t budge. “You heard the Dark Lord, Draco. Heads.”

“Of course,” Draco murmured. Reached into the trunk and pulled out a pair of all-too-lifelike ears.

Dog ears.

Hermione blanched. Greyback howled with delight.

Draco put the ears on her, adjusting them until they fit snugly over her own. She cried out when he grasped and pulled them up to the top of her head, her human ears nowhere in sight. They swiveled, then pinned themselves back, disappearing in the frizz of her hair.

Draco went back to the trunk and brought out a muzzle fashioned to look like a dog’s snout. Riveted, the onlookers watched as it fastened over her mouth and melded with her skin. It opened to release a high-pitched whine.

“Tails, now.” Bellatrix squealed with glee, throwing her arms into the air. “Tails, tails, tails.”

The other Death Eaters took up the chant, pounding their fists on the table.

With a nod from Lucius, Draco once again reached into the trunk. He lifted out a long, fluffy dog’s tail attached to a small dildo.

Narcissa brought Lucius a chair and he sat in it, pulling Hermione over his lap so her arse faced the table of fascinated spectators. Before handing his wand to his wife, he cast a quick spell. An up close look of Hermione’s hole appeared above his head.

Lucius dipped the toy into a potion Draco held up for him. It emerged dripping and glistening in the light of the room.

The Death Eaters watched, rapt.

He pressed it into Hermione’s arse inch by inch. She whimpered, squirming as her muscles bore down to try to push it out. Yelped when he forced it further in. Trembled when it was fully seated inside her, the base of the tail flush against her hole.

He pulled it out and smirked at the Death Eaters as it visibly fattened. Pushed it back in, smirk widening with every whine and whimper she emitted. He fucked her with it as his fellows urged him on. Paused only to let everyone watch the rod grow between every thrust.

“Narcissa,” Lucius said when her hole had stretched as wide as it would go.

Narcissa nodded and tapped her wand against the tail. Turned and curtsied smugly at them when it shuddered and wagged once, then curled between Hermione’s legs.

“There’s a charm on it to banish any and all excretions from that end, so it can stay in her until we tire of it,” Lucius said.

“Oh, Lucius, you have outdone yourself,” Voldemort said, one hand between Bellatrix’s thighs.

“More,” Bellatrix said, biting her lip and squirming, eyes riveted on the picture above Lucius’ head.

“Of course,” Lucius said. He grasped Hermione’s arms and rolled her over so her back was against his knees. “Draco, Narcissa, the final touch to ready the smartest bitch of her age for her new paramour.”

Draco offered an open pouch to his mother. Narcissa pulled out what looked like little brown buttons and pressed them in two parallel lines of three down Hermione’s abdomen. With another tap of her wand they attached and swelled into breasts the same size as hers.

“And now.” Lucius brought a silver whistle out and blew on it. Harry didn’t hear a sound. Hermione, her triangular canine ears perking straight up, did.

Her breath hitched. She began to pant, long canine tongue lolling out of her mouth. Her breasts bounced with every breath. All eight of her nipples pebbled in the cold air of the room. Above her, the screen showed her cunt shiny wet and spasming around the empty air.

Lucius shoved her to the floor, dusting himself of invisible dirt as he stood. Hermione drew herself up on her hands and knees. Reached down to fuck herself with her fingers and keened, tail curling until the tip brushed against her back.

“Would you like to meet the sire of the little bitch’s future whelps?” Lucius asked, walking over to the covered box as the Death Eaters whooped and hollered. Hermione whined and rubbed her legs together until they glistened with slick, her fingers too slim and short to fulfill the need roaring through her.

He grasped the curtain and pulled it off. Sleeping in the cage underneath was a large three-headed dog. Bellatrix squealed and clapped.

“Found this fellow deep in the bowels of Hogwarts,” Lucius said. “It was much bigger, then, but Draco put together a potion to get it to a more manageable size. Named it Cerberus, after the first of its kind.”

He reached into the cage and grabbed the flute playing itself inside. It stopped playing with a shriek.

Cerberus twitched, growling at them as it roused. Its nostrils flared and all three heads swiveled to look at Hermione. It lunged toward her. Snarled when it was stopped by the bars of the cage. A thick red cock peeked out of the sheath on its belly.

“Should we let these eager lovebirds meet?” Lucius asked, shooing Draco and Narcissa back to the table. He sank into his chair to the sound of boisterous applause. Waved his wand to vanish the cage door.

Cerberus leapt out of the cage and wasted no time mounting Hermione. She cried out as it fucked into her cunt, her knees sliding apart to allow it to bury so deep inside her its balls smacked loudly against her.

The screen above their heads showed a close up view of its tapered cock thrusting in and out of her. Her juices gushed out around it and slid down her thighs. She tightened around it and its thrusts quickened.

Its sheath bulged as its balls drew up and out of it. The knot caught on the lips of Hermione’s cunt and she grunted. Pushed back onto it and spread her legs further, inviting it deeper as it grew. It pounded into her harder and harder as her cunt struggled to stretch around the knot, her knees lifting off of the ground with the force of its thrusts.

Cerberus threw all three heads back in a triumphant howl when the knot was too large to be pulled out, swiveling its hips against her. Hermione echoed the noise as she orgasmed, her cunt clamping down on the knot. She shuddered, hips jerking minutely to coax every bit of come Cerberus could produce.

As its orgasm waned, Cerberus shifted off of her. It maneuvered them around until their arses touched, its knot still locking them tightly together so it could plug up her hole and keep any come from leaking out.

Harry could see the exact moment Hermione came back to herself. Tears sprung in her eyes. She vomited. Tried to pull away and winced when the knot stayed caught deep in her cunt, continuing to stuff its seed into her. She brought a hand up to her mouth and sobbed, the noise drowned out by the Death Eaters catcalling and whistling.

“They’ll stay like that for some time before they go again,” Lucius said, wiping chocolate off of his mouth with a dainty swipe of his napkin. Picked up his wand. “While we wait—Potter, Weasley, it is time for your part of the evening’s entertainment.”

“Go to hell,” Ron said.

“Oh, I don’t believe I shall.” Lucius waved his wand at them. Their shackles fell free.

Harry stood, intent on getting at least one punch in before Ron committed murder. Stopped short at the sound of a sharp snap and watched Ron all but rip Lucius’ pants open. Ron draped himself over the side of the table. Spread his legs wide and moaned when Lucius stood and pushed his cock into Ron’s arse.

Harry’s mouth watered at the sight, waves of desire cutting through his anger like it was hardly there. He looked down, horrified to see his cock hardening.

“Potter.”

He looked in the direction of the voice.

Draco downed the last of whatever was in his goblet. Tossed the goblet at Osti and sat, legs dropping open to show the obvious bulge in his trousers.

Slick dripped out of Harry’s unbearably empty hole. He scrambled onto his hands and knees. Crawled between Draco’s legs and fumbled with the buttons of his trousers. He shivered at the sight of Draco’s cock as it sprang free. Wrapped his lips around it and sucked hard. Groped at Draco’s pants to pull them further out of the way.

Draco grabbed his hair and thrust up. Harry opened his mouth as wide as it would go so Draco could fuck deep into his throat.

“Won’t make a child that way, lad,” one of the Death Eaters said, hazy and distant.

Draco pushed Harry away, ignoring Harry’s whines. Pulled Harry off of the floor. Harry climbed into Draco’s lap. His eyelids fluttered as he impaled himself on Draco’s cock.

This was what he needed. To be full of a hard cock. To tighten around it; urge it to fill him up until his stomach swelled in a weak imitation of what was to come.

Draco pulled him closer, his hands bruising on Harry’s hips. Whispered, “Sorry, Potter” in his ear and then came before Harry could parse out what the words meant.

The Death Eaters’ cheering brought him out of his haze. He looked around blearily to see Hermione arching back into Cerberus, her breasts slapping against each other with each snap of Cerberus’ hips.

He clenched around Draco’s softening cock and was rewarded with a twitch. Put his hands on Draco’s shoulders and drew himself up. Sank back down on the rapidly hardening cock inside him and cried out when Draco met the movement with a sharp thrust upwards.

His cock drooled weakly as he came, clenching down around Draco’s cock. Draco’s fingernails dug into Harry’s sides and he came again.

“Such a show, Lucius,” Bellatrix was saying breathlessly when he floated back down into himself.

“Indeed,” Lucius said as he cleaned himself with a wave of his wand and smoothed the wrinkles in his pants. Ron lay at his feet, curled up on his side and panting. “If I may be so bold, My Lord, as to offer to host another dinner in two months when the bitch gives birth? It is sure to be a fun watch, and we can let Cerberus fuck her full of more pups as soon as she’s done.”

“That does sound fun,” Voldemort said to the raucous applause of his supporters.

Harry slipped out of Draco’s lap and to the floor, come trickling out of his hole. Somewhere behind him, Hermione let out a choked sob.

~*~

Harry wretched into a bucket. Distantly he could hear Ron doing the same. Hermione patted his back.

He dry heaved when there was no bile left to come up, stomach cramping.

Hermione whined. The muzzle was still stuck to her face, limiting her to mere canine noises.

He pushed the bucket away and took a deep breath. Went when Hermione pulled him toward her. Closed his eyes and sighed into her arms.

“Alright, mate?” Ron’s voice was hoarse.

He grunted. “You?”

“Fantastic.” Ron curled up to Hermione’s other side, a fleck of spittle or bile at the corner of his mouth.

“I hate barfing,” Harry said. “Worst part about pregnancy, I think.”

“There is no worst part,” Ron said. “The whole thing’s the worst part.”

Harry opened his mouth to speak but snapped it shut again when the door to their room creaked open.

Draco stood in the doorway. Looked out into the hallway and then shut the door. His hands clenched and unclenched at his sides as he stared at them.

“I am sorry. For everything,” he said. Glanced back and took a deep breath. “We are working to get you away from here.”

“What?” Ron asked.

“It won’t be soon,” Draco said as if Ron hadn’t spoken. “But I thought if you. If there was a light at the end of the tunnel, you might.”

“Please stop,” Harry said.

Draco’s mouth pressed into a thin line.

“We are resigned to this,” Harry said, burying his face into Hermione’s side. “Don’t give us hope now when there is none.”

“But there is, we—”

“Will only get yourselves killed, you and whoever’s barmy enough to try and help,” Ron said.

Hermione yipped at Draco when he tried to speak again. Immediately looked like she regretted the sound, ears pinned back.

Draco snorted and drew himself up. “I expect your full cooperation when we bust you out, and heartfelt thanks.”

Without waiting to hear their reply, he turned and stormed out of the room.

~*~

Unlike their time with the giants, when their stomachs had grown gradually throughout their pregnancy, Hermione’s stomach went from pudgy to hugely swollen almost overnight during the last week of hers. The sudden and substantial bulge of her tummy threw her wildly off-balance. Her movements were further impeded by her numerous breasts as they became heavy with milk, nipples puffy and sensitive and as ready to burst as the rest of her.

Harry and Ron, both still flat after a mere two months, could do nothing but guess at her every want and do their best to fulfill it. They held bowls of gruel to her mouth as her canine tongue lapped it up, her stomach too large to allow her to hold it herself. Helped her in and out of bed. Let her lean on them as she squatted to relieve herself in the hole in the ground they had to use as a bathroom. Massaged her feet and back.

Tried and failed to shield her from the elves when her contractions started.

She whined piteously while Osti and another house elf used magic to lift her onto a cart, her legs soaked with her broken waters. Harry and Ron could do nothing but follow as they wheeled her into the dining room.

The Death Eaters applauded their arrival. Their cheers grew deafening when they heard Hermione choke back a pained cry. The elves moved her to a birthing bed. Yanked her legs up into the leg supports. Pushed them as far apart as they would go to provide the best view for everyone. Curled her hands and arms around her thighs to keep them that way.

“Here, boys,” Bellatrix said, jerking them over and shoving them to the floor at her feet with a wave of her wand. “Wouldn’t want you to miss a single second.”

“The beast will enjoy her cunt, tonight,” one of the other Death Eaters said. “Look at how loose it is.”

From the other side of the table Cerberus barked as if in agreement, its cock already pushing out of its sheath. It threw its shoulder against the cage and snarled at the bars.

Hermione’s stomach jiggled as she panted for air. Visibly tightened as she heaved through a contraction. The lips of her cunt parted as the first pup crowned. Her canine tongue lolled out of her snout. A second, then a third head appeared. Its body followed, falling into the towel in Osti’s waiting hands.

The little elf held it up for them to see, its smile twisted and ugly as the Death Eaters cheered. The pup squirmed in its grasp. It put the pup on Hermione’s straining stomach. The Death Eaters broke out into loud guffaws as it began rooting around, grunting angrily until one of its heads found and latched onto a nipple.

Her face was red with exertion. Head fell back as a contraction passed. Mouth fell open; body went tense. A head came out, followed by the other two. She let out a sob, curling forward as she pushed. The rest of the pup emerged and Osti cleaned it and placed it next to its sibling.

The veins in her neck bulged as she strained to push out the third pup. It breached and she howled, her entire body shaking.

There were six pups total. Osti cleaned each one as it was born, putting it next to her to find a teat once the worst of the afterbirth was gone. The elves rolled her onto her side to give the pups better access. Otherwise, Hermione lay motionless on the table.

“What shall we do with them, My Lord?” Bellatrix’s eager voice cut through the silence of the room.

“Will they be in those forms forever?” Voldemort asked. “Or will they have human forms as well?”

“To be honest, My Lord, we were not entirely sure she would carry to term,” Lucius said. “Draco found the potion in an ancient text. Draco?”

“Most of the notes were too faded to read or in some dead, gibberish dialect,” Draco said. “It was difficult enough to parse out the potion itself. I was almost certain they would be stillborn.”

“Well they aren’t werewolves,” Greyback said with a sneer. “But I can take them if they survive long enough to wean off her. If they do have human forms, they’ll make an interesting addition to my pack. Especially if they can be bred with my omegas.” He flashed them a smile that was all teeth. “Just imagine three-headed werewolves wreaking havoc on the resistance.”

“And if they do not have human forms?” Rodolphus asked.

“Might try to breed them, anyway.” Greyback laughed.

“If they do not have human forms, perhaps my followers would enjoy them,” Voldemort said. “They guarded the gates of hell in the old stories; the gates of our strongholds should be child’s play.”

“Oh, I’ll have one if it pleases My Lord,” Bellatrix said. “I can teach it to rip out the throats of any who dare oppose us.”

“Very well, then, it is decided,” Voldemort said. “If they are of no use to Greyback, Lucius shall oversee gifting them to any of my most loyal followers who wishes to have one.”

“You have many loyal followers, My Lord,” Lucius said as he held up what looked like a replenishing potion. “A mere six pups won’t even provide a gift for all of those here in your innermost circle.”

Voldemort’s mouth stretched into a wicked smile. “You shall see to it that all of my worthy followers are so gifted, Lucius.”

Lucius swept into a deep bow as the Death Eaters applauded. “Of course, My Lord. Osti.”

The elf rushed to his side and took the potion from him. Another elf held Hermione still so Osti could pour the potion down her throat. Her stomach returned to its normal size, as if she had never been pregnant at all, though her breasts remained milk heavy. The two elves plucked the sated and sleeping pups off her chest and disappeared with them.

Lucius grasped her arm and jerked her off of the table.

“Lucius,” Voldemort said, stopping him short. “The muzzle is amusing, but I believe I would enjoy the show more if she could beg.”

Lucius smirked and nodded. Muttered a spell. Removed the muzzle and tossed it to one side. She did begin to beg, pleading with them not to make her go through it again.

“Not that sort of begging.” Voldemort held up a vial of a familiar purple potion. “I’ve been using this to breed them; it’s a fertility potion that doubles as a powerful aphrodisiac. We’ve been making it stronger as we go along and it is…very potent. Between it and your whistle…”

The smirk widened. “Yes, My Lord.”

“And more puppies to go around,” Nott said as Lucius blew the whistle.

Hermione took a sharp breath, flushing with want as the effects of the whistle hit her. Lucius poured the contents of the vial into her open mouth. She slumped in Lucius’ grip for a moment before plastering herself to his side, groping for his belt.

“Desperate little slag will take whatever cock she can get,” Lucius said, tossing her to the floor at the foot of Cerberus’ cage.

“Not that you will be providing that thing with any cock,” Narcissa said, one brow raised.

“And taint my line with Mudblood bastards? I should say not.” Lucius gave a dramatic shudder. Sank into his chair beside his wife and kissed her hand.

Cerberus was all but foaming at the mouth as it tried to escape its cage. It pressed its body against the bars, gleaming red cock almost fully unsheathed. Hermione stumbled toward it. Tried to climb the cage as the Death Eaters jeered at the sight.

“Oh, do,” Rodolphus said through peals of laughter, “do put the wretched things out, out of their misery, Lu, Lucius. I don’t want to, to wait while you heal her if she in, injures herself.”

Lucius nodded, laughing too hard to speak. Giggling but not yet speechless, Narcissa vanished the door of the cage. She summoned the screen that showed them an up close look of Hermione’s cunt, so wet with slick there were rivulets dripping down her thighs and into a growing spot on the floor.

Cerberus knocked Hermione to the ground in its enthusiasm. She hardly seemed to feel it. Rolled onto her stomach and lifted herself up on her hands and knees. Her breasts dangled below her and dripped milk.

“Please, please,” she said breathlessly, chanting the word like it was the only word she knew. Keened when it mounted her, bottoming out immediately. Its thrusts were so powerful she slid forward on the rug. She leaned down on her arms in an attempt to anchor herself but only succeeded in squeezing her breasts against the floor, milk squirting from her nipples. One of the Death Eaters took pity on her and summoned a metal bar that was bolted to the floor in front of her.

Hermione grabbed it with both hands. Allowed herself to be inched forward until she could use it to push back onto its cock. Her voice stuttered as its knot began to swell, pushing the lips of her cunt wide with every thrust. Words turned to gibberish until her mouth hung open, grunts and moans wrung out of her. Her voice went shrill as she orgasmed. Cerberus grunted and forced its bulging knot into her pulsating cunt, locking them together. Hips stuttering, it filled her with wave after wave of come.

She slumped forward, breathing hard. Ground her hips back when Cerberus tried to turn. Tightened her channel around its cock. Milked it until its knot began to shrink so she could fuck herself back on it. Cerberus’ hips began to gyrate, slowly at first but quickly matching pace with her frantic movements.

“Why that dirty little whore,” Greyback said, sounding impressed.

“And listen to her,” Goyle said as she started up a litany of pleas for Cerberus to move faster, deeper, to fuck her harder, to stuff her so full of come she burst with it. “Mouth might be filthier than her blood.”

Breathily, one hand in her panties while the other teased a nipple, Bellatrix said, “I might have to borrow the recipe for that potion, My Lord.”

“As if you need it, you wanton thing,” Voldemort said as he slid his hand down to join hers.

“Whoever said it was for me?” she asked, tittering.

Cerberus howled as it knotted Hermione for a second time. Flushed and shaking, she let it turn away, tears springing in her eyes as the potion finally began to wear off.

“Could we watch it knot one of the boys, next?” Bellatrix said, unbuttoning her robes. “They’re already up the duff but surely with that potion it won’t notice?”

“If it does, they can fuck each other,” Voldemort said, holding out another vial.

“My Lord, it would be my pleasure.” Lucius sneered at them. “Which one would you prefer, Bella?”

“Oh, Potty, I think,” she said, standing. “May I?”

Voldemort nodded and handed her the vial.

She flounced over to them. Grabbed Harry by the hair and wrenched his head back, shoving the bottle into his mouth and shaking it until he’d drunk every last drop. He didn’t need that much, his cock rock hard before he’d so much as swallowed. She grabbed the chain of his manacles and pulled him up off of the floor. Giggled wildly when he pressed up against her, face flushed, eyes glazed with heat.

“One day I’ll let you eat a real cunt, boy,” she said as she dragged him over to Cerberus’ cage. “But for today…”

She opened the small trap door used to feed the beast and motioned at it. Harry looked up at Cerberus’, eyes catching on its tapered red cock, and clambered in.

He gaped up at it. His breathing quickened as, even with the haze of the potion, he felt a sharp jolt of fear shoot through him. All three of its heads were focused on him. The middle one leaned forward, sniffing. Its cold nose brushed against his side toward his stomach, the slightest of bumps the only indication of the life growing inside him. It nudged him again and he bit his lip, eyelids fluttering shut, precome trickling down his engorged cock.

A huge tongue licked his cock and his eyes snapped back open. The left head snorted at his cock and he gasped at the sensation, his cock twitching, his back arching, his toes curling.

The three heads considered him. Shuddering under its gaze, he leaned forward on his arms. Pushed his arse as high up into the air as he could get it. Cried out when all three heads licked at the slick dripping from his arse and down his thighs. Whined when they pulled away.

Cerberus mounted him, its cock fucking deep into his welcoming hole. He grabbed onto the bars of the cage and himself pushed back onto every thrust. His knees slid apart on the floor and allowed the dog even further inside him. Its balls smacked up against his perineum and he gasped, pleasure crashing over him. His hole ached, stretched wide around the cock’s base. His mouth fell open as he was forced wider and wider around Cerberus’ growing knot. The heat coiling tight in his stomach exploded when the knot pressed against his prostate. Thick ropes of come spattered up onto his stomach and chest and dripped to the floor.

Cerberus’ hips jerked, the knot sliding against his prostate with every movement. His cock began to fill again. He reached down and jacked it with one hand, the other fondling his balls. One of Cerberus’ heads bit the nape of his neck as it fucked the knot past his hole one last time and tied them together. Harry shuddered as Cerberus’ load filled him, warming him from the inside out, causing his stomach to round out a little further. He orgasmed again, cock unable to do more than dribble what little come it had onto his hand.

As Cerberus turned and the heat clouding his head faded into shame, Harry looked up to see Bellatrix standing in front of the cage. Ron was at her side, his cock red and hard, his thighs glistening with slick.


	8. The Twelfth Labor of Heracles

Once again, Hermione’s stomach stayed more or less flat for most of her pregnancy before ballooning out overnight. This time it was even more grossly distended, her skin littered with huge stretch marks, her breasts made to look even larger as her stomach forced them to spread out over it.

“I want them out of me.” She lay on her side, grimacing as her first litter drank bodily from her teats. She hissed; some of them were beginning to teethe.

“Still another week left,” Ron said, pressing his fingers into the base of her spine.

“And they’ll probably make me have more.” Her voice grew shakier as she spoke. “And fuck that, that monster in front of them again and, and make me want to do it.”

“Shh, love.” Harry brushed her hair out of her face. “It’ll be over, soon.”

“As soon as you and Ron give birth,” she said, eyeing the slight swell of his stomach. “And then we’ll be shipped off somewhere else, and who knows where that will be? You know it won’t get better, Harry; it never does.” She burst into tears, putting a hand over her eyes. “None of this was supposed to happen. I was supposed to graduate and have a career. Ron and I were supposed to get married and have children when we decided to, when my career was stable and I’d started making a name for myself outside of Harry Potter’s annoying friend. And now I’m nothing but a, a slaggy bitch to be bred again and again until my body gives out.”

Harry sighed and continued brushing her hair. Exchanged a glance with Ron over her head.

Nothing he could say would change the fact that everything she’d said was true. For all of them.

~*~

The first litter was taken away the next afternoon. Ron and Harry cleaned up the milk that still leaked from her breasts, too close to her due date to dry up, and tried to assure her everything would be okay.

It wouldn’t be, but they tried anyway.

~*~

Hermione groaned as she paced back and forth in front of the table of Death Eaters. One hand rubbed her sharply angled lower back while the other rested on her enormous stomach. It hung grotesquely huge and low, the pups having dropped into her birth canal sometime the night before.

The Death Eaters leaned forward every time a contraction brought her to a moaning halt. Let out disappointed, long-suffering sighs when she began to pace again, seemingly no closer to giving birth than when they had first arrived.

“This is not nearly as entertaining as it was last time, Lucius,” Bellatrix said, arms pillowing her head on the table. “It’s been hours and all she’s done is walk around and whinge.”

“Labor can take quite some time, my dear,” Narcissa said primly.

“Can’t you speed it up?” Bellatrix asked.

Narcissa pursed her lips together like she wanted very much to roll her eyes but was too polite to do so. “I told Lucius we should wait to summon all of you until after her waters broke, like we did last time, but apparently someone insisted on being called as soon as she went into labor.”

Bellatrix made a face at her.

“How long until her waters break?” Voldemort asked.

Narcissa shrugged eloquently. “Timing varies. Every birth is different.”

Hermione let out a little whimper. Bit her lip until it bled. Shuffled forward with a breathy sob when the contraction passed. Took a mere three steps before she was forced to stop again, her entire body tensing.

“But her contractions are getting closer together,” Narcissa said. “So perhaps soon.”

“Perhaps soon isn’t soon enough,” Bellatrix said. “We finished dinner almost an hour ago.”

“You could leave,” Narcissa said, lip curling.

Hermione groaned, both hands on her gravid stomach. Liquid trickled down her legs and then flooded into a puddle at her feet.

Bellatrix all but leapt from her chair. “Finally,” she said, rubbing her hands together.

“Osti,” Narcissa said when the elf stepped forward to move Hermione. “Our guests may get bored again if the show is the same as last time. Don’t put her on the bed.”

“Yes, Mistress,” Osti said with a bow.

Hermione lay heavily on the side of the delivery bed, arse facing the Death Eaters. Osti jabbed her with a finger until she turned around. She cried out and leaned back against the bed, fingers and toes curling.

“She’ll have them faster this way, too,” Narcissa said with a sweet smile at Bellatrix. She waved her wand, and a screen appeared above Hermione’s head that showed what was happening. With her legs spread, they could see the lips her cunt stretching wider to accommodate the pups struggling to escape it. “Though it is abysmal for viewing purposes, of course.”

Hermione clung to the bed, panting. Maneuvered herself down into a squat, making pained noises with every outward breath. Her hands clenched into fists. One of the pup’s heads wriggled out of her cunt, fluids squirting out around it. She heaved through the next contraction and the other two heads emerged. With a shaky cry, the first pup fell to the floor beneath her.

Osti picked it up and cleaned it. Looked from it to Hermione to Lucius. “How is I to be—”

“Just put it on the bed,” Lucius said with an impatient wave of his hand. “She can nurse them when she’s done.”

“Yes, Master.” Osti bowed awkwardly and put the pup on the bed.

Hermione shrieked. Rose up on the balls of her feet as if to somehow escape the sharp burn heralding the next pup’s arrival. One of its heads appeared on screen, slowly nudging past the open folds of her cunt. She put a hand on her knee, nails biting into her skin as she pushed. It slid out little by little.

She squeezed her eyes shut. Two more pups were welcomed into the world by their mother’s screaming and the onlookers’ cheers. Her legs trembled and gave out after the birth of the fifth pup. She fell to her knees with a sharp cry, the sixth pup already crowning. She slumped forward onto her hands with a groan as it slid out. With her stomach on the floor, she pushed out the seventh pup. Then the eighth and ninth. The tenth. As the eleventh crowned she began to list to one side.

Osti, in a rare show of kindness, held her up until the last pup fell to the floor in a splash of blood and other bodily fluids.

“Thirteen,” Lucius said when it was clean and on the bed.

Osti snapped his fingers, his magic lifting her up onto the bed. Forced the replenishing potion down her throat. As her stomach shrank back to its normal size, the elf moved the whimpering pups to her side so they could nurse.

“Twice as many as last time,” Voldemort said. His eyes never left her as a malicious smile pulled at the corners of his lips. “Tell me, Lucius.”

“Yes, My Lord?”

“Have I a mere nineteen loyal followers?”

Lucius smiled, pulling the silver whistle out of his pocket. “No, My Lord.”

They turned toward her and waited for the pups to finish nursing.

~*~

“Damn all of you,” Hermione said through gritted teeth. Her hands fisted in the sheets of the bed, eight newly-born pups nursing from her dangling teats. She made an awful noise as the last pup in the litter fell into Osti’s waiting towel. “Damn you all to the lowest pits of hell.”

“Finally found your mouth, did you?” Lucius asked. “Draco warned me about it, but after all this time I was certain he was a liar.”

She spat at him, gasping for air. “Five seconds with a wand and you’ll wish all I’d done was let that dog fuck you.”

“And here I thought you only used such language when begging for it to fuck you,” he said, snorting when she spat at the floor in front of him. “Osti, her potion.”

Three elves had to hold her in place for Osti to give her the replenishing potion.

“My Lord,” Lucius said as the potion took effect. “With your permission, Cerberus does not need the whistle to entice him to put another litter in her. The potion I put on her tail ensures he thinks she is constantly in heat.”

“Then why ever have you been using it?” Voldemort asked.

Lucius shrugged. “I found it more entertaining to watch her slobber for its cock to breed her. And of course she enjoys it more that way, too. But if she isn’t going to be grateful for that small kindness…”

“You’re quite right,” Voldemort said. “Carry on as you see fit.”

“Osti.” Lucius clapped his hands.

Osti and the other elves wrestled her away from the pups.

“And to take care of that mouth.” Lucius summoned a ball gag, the ball shaped like a dog bone, and forced it onto her. Motioned at the elves.

They locked her wrists in manacles on the floor that forced her to her knees. Strapped her ankles down so her knees almost touched her elbows and her arse was pushed high in the air. What they could see of her cunt glistened, not with slick but rather the blood and fluids left over from the birth of her latest litter.

“Would you care to do the honors, my dear?” Lucius asked with a small bow to Narcissa.

She beamed at him and banished the cage door.

Cerberus shot out of the cage and went to Hermione. Gave her arse a cursory sniff. Mounted and fucked into her, heedless of the shriek she let out around the gag. Thanks to the way her legs were positioned, her cunt—more dry than wet with no potion or spell to stimulate her, sticky with the drying afterbirth—was especially tight. Every thrust was agony. It humped her without seeming to notice, the sharp sound of their skin slapping together punctuated by Hermione’s staccato cries.

It quickened its pace and fucked her harder as its knot fattened, making it more difficult to bury its cock deep inside her. It began to orgasm while pulling out of her, the first stripes of its come splashing on the puffy red lips of her cunt. It grunted and thrust back into her, already producing so much come it gushed out around its cock and onto its knot. It snapped its hips viciously against her.

She screamed as the knot was forced inside of her with little more than its own come to ease the way. Cerberus’ hips kept swiveling as it stuffed her full, the knot keeping any more come from leaking out. Her abused cunt contracted around it, trying to force it out but only succeeding in stimulating it further, milking more and more come out of it.

“It’s not turning,” Crabbe said after the usual amount of time had passed.

“It was such fun, that time we got to watch it fuck and fuck her without that dreadfully boring pause in between,” Lucius said, kissing his wife’s knuckles. “Cissy finally perfected a spell to allow it to do that until it’s well and truly done, with no help from the bitch or the Dark Lord’s potion.”

“With auspicious timing,” Dolohov said, eyes riveted at where the two were stuck together. The snap of Cerberus’ hips was growing faster as its knot slowly shrank.

The Death Eaters jeered when, without the knot to stop it, come spurted out around Cerberus’ cock and trickled down Hermione’s thighs. Cerberus began to piston its hips as if to push the come back in. Hermione yelled around the gag as its knot grew, catching on her cunt with every thrust.

Cerberus’ movements became erratic as it once again neared completion. It let out a triumphant howl as its knot locked them back together, drowning out Hermione’s muffled sob.

But it still wasn’t done. Cerberus wrenched its shrinking knot out of her, heedless of her startled shriek. Come trickled out of her. It shoved its cock back in so hard she rocked forward. Fucked her harder and faster the more its knot shrank. Then, hips moving at a feverish pace, its knot once again began to grow. They watched it force its way past the lips of her cunt and then pull out of it, slower and slower as its knot grew larger and larger. Her cunt could do nothing but cling to it with every outward pull, stretched to its limits and as desperate as she was for the end. Its final, brutal thrust sent her crashing forward onto her shoulders, tears and snot and drool streaming down her face. Even with the bulbous knot blocking the way and her cunt stretched tight around it, come eked out.

She shook beneath Cerberus, its hips still making tiny, aborted movements. With both of them moving so, it took the onlookers a moment to notice her stomach swelling as Cerberus stuffed more and more come inside of her already overfull body.

When it was finally finished, Cerberus clambered off of her and was bribed back into its cage with a slab of meat. Globs of tacky come oozed out of her cunt and down her legs as she wept around the gag.

Eyes locked on Hermione’s trembling form, Amycus Carrow asked, “Is she pregnant now?”

“Yes. The potions we give her guarantee she becomes pregnant soon after Cerberus ejaculates the first time. The continued fucking is merely for our enjoyment.” Lucius’ eyebrows rose when he realized what Amycus wanted. “You can have her; there is no chance of you getting a Mudblood whelp on her.”

“Fantastic,” Amycus said as he shrugged off his robes and waved a hand at Osti. “Take the gag off but leave her there. I’ve been wanting to wet my cock in her and I want to hear how many noises I can fuck out of that filthy little mouth.”

Osti bobbed its head and removed the gag, snorting when she let out a loud wail.

Amycus knelt behind her. Ran his hands over her arse. Grabbed the tail curled between her legs and yanked it out of the way. Tilted his head to one side, sneering.

“Just look at it,” he said, smearing his free hand through the come on her thighs. Forced it back into her shuddering cunt with his fingers, smiling even more when she tried and failed to twist away from him. “Does she get this good and wet with that potion, My Lord? Might be worth a Mudblood whelp or two to have her dripping wet and begging for my cock.”

“Ask and it will be provided,” Voldemort said with a careless shrug. “You have always been a loyal follower, Amycus; I won’t begrudge you your fun.”

Amycus huffed out a laugh. Took his cock in hand and lined it up. Thrust balls deep into her, mouth falling open at the sensation. Huffed out a laugh when she whimpered. Grabbed her hips and rocked in and out of her. “Swallow me right up, there’s a good girl. Loose from that mutt’s cock, hey? Or is your body just that hungry for a nice fat cock to fill you up?”

“I want a turn at her,” Crabbe said, rubbing himself through his trousers. “Didn’t know we was allowed.”

“Certainly,” Voldemort said. “If any of you want one of the others…”

“Not when they’re that fat with child.” Goyle made a face at Harry and Ron. Six months along, their stomachs looked as if they’d stuffed quaffles under their skin.

“That’s half the fun.” Rodolphus reached down to undo his belt. “Bring the Weasley boy here, Osti.”

Osti and the other elves strapped Ron down the same way they had Hermione, heedless of his struggling and yelling.

Rodolphus knelt behind him, caressing his arse. “Bellatrix, my darling, would you like his mouth? He’s likely only ever had a Mudblood’s cunt to go down on; you’d be a Pure treat.”

“And be touched by the same tongue as touched that filth? No, thank you. The Dark Lord needs relief, too, which I am more than happy to provide,” Bellatrix said as she climbed into Voldemort’s lap. “If it pleases My Lord?”

“It does,” Voldemort said, watching her part his robes with a smile. His cock sprang up, hard and pulsing.

Bellatrix held her robes up and sank down onto him. Her mouth fell open when he wrenched her bodice open and took a nipple into his mouth.

“Should let that dog fuck you first, next time.” Rodolphus smiled, using his thumbs to spread Ron’s cheeks apart and pressing his cock against Ron’s hole. “Get you all loose and wet for me. Would you like that?”

Ron shouted, his entire body going taut as Rodolphus pressed into him. His body bore down around Rodolphus’ cock, trying to force it out but only allowing Rodolphus to push deeper inside of him.

“Look at the slutty little prick getting hard,” Rodolphus said gleefully. “Enjoy my cock, do you, boy? Here now, I’ll help you.”

Ron jerked back when Rodolphus wrapped a hand around his cock, inadvertently pressing himself further onto Rodolphus’. Rodolphus pressed close to his back, breath hot against his ear, hand twisting around his cock.

Ron’s jaw clenched as he became fully hard in Rodolphus’ grip. Edging into his third trimester, his hormones were in full swing and sent heat coursing through him. Made him gasp and whimper when Rodolphus’ cock brushed against his prostate. Made his cock twitch and drool precome that Rodolphus’ smeared away with his hand.

“There, is it?” Rodolphus asked, changing the angle of his hips to hit Ron’s prostate.

Tears stung Ron’s eyes when, in response, his body began to produce slick, easing Rodolphus’ way. And it felt so good, pleasure coiling tight inside of him, overtaking whatever shame and horror was still left. His hips snapped back and forth between the rough heat of Rodolphus’ hand and the thick hardness of his cock.

He let out a hitched grunt, thick ropes of come spilling over Rodolphus hand. Grimaced as Rodolphus pressed closer to him, thrusting harder into his juddering hole.

“That’s right. Even tighter, there’s a good lad,” Rodolphus said. Pulled out and came all over Ron’s exposed arse.

Ron squeezed his eyes shut and pressed his forehead to the floor. Focused on breathing and overcoming his own body’s betrayal.

His eyes snapped wide open as another cock breached his hole.

“You were right,” Rabastan said with a sneer. “Feels exactly like a ripe cunt.”

Rodolphus snickered and curled his hand back around Ron’s slowly stiffening cock. “And just wait until you see what it feels like when he comes.”

~*~

“Are you in labor?” Harry asked when the door shut behind the elves.

“Started about an hour ago,” Hermione said, jaw tight, fingers loosening their white-knuckled grip on the arms of her chair. Panting, she put her hands on her gigantic belly. “I want to be as far along as I can before they find out.”

“They won’t be back until dinnertime,” he said. Pursed his lips together as he struggled to his feet. “Let’s get you to bed. Ron, help.”

Ron pushed himself out of his chair and took one of Hermione’s arms as Harry took the other. They pulled her up and walked her to the bed, pausing whenever she hissed through a contraction. She sat on the edge of the bed and laid back, shifting her legs as far apart as she could.

“How dilated do I look?” she asked, propping herself up on her elbows.

“Nowhere close to fully,” Ron said.

Harry pulled her to her feet. “Let’s walk around, see if we can speed things up?”

“Yes, let’s.” They waddled around the room at a glacial pace, stopping whenever a contraction hit.

“You’re getting closer, love, they’re only a few minutes apart,” Harry said after almost an hour.

She nodded, clinging to him while she waited for the contraction to pass. She gasped as it suddenly eased. Her waters streamed down her legs.

“Much closer,” Harry said. “Do you want up on the bed?”

She shook her head, groaning through another contraction. “Help me kneel next to it. Narcissa was right; birth’s faster that way.”

“Ron, put down a blanket and some pillows.” Harry winced as she squeezed his hand. Heavy with child, he had to squat awkwardly to help her get down on her knees.

She crossed her arms in front of her on the bed and rested her head on them, trembling. “How dilated?”

“I’ll have to get down there to look.” Harry straightened, rubbing his knuckles against the small of his back. “But first, this baby’s dancing on my bloody bladder again. I’ll be back in a moment.”

“Right,” she said breathlessly. “Oh, Merlin, this lot’s coming fast. Ron.” She groped around on the bed for him.

“You’re alright, love, I’m here,” Ron said as maneuvered himself onto the bed next to her and took her hand in his. Petted her hair with his free hand. She took a sharp, gasping breath and bared down when the urge overtook her.

“Pushing already?” Harry asked, shaking his cock dry and padding back over to them. He dragged a chair over and used it to crouch behind her. Took a few deep breaths to steel himself. Leaned down on his hands to get a better look. “Bloody hell, Hermione, there’s a head hanging out.”

“Merlin,” she said again, dragging the word out as her stomach heaved through another contaction. Shifted so her legs were further apart and pushed. “Pull it out, Harry, it bloody hurts.”

“Yeah, alright,” he said. Transferred his substantial weight to one arm. Eased the pup the rest of the way out of her. Wiped it off with a corner of the blanket Ron had laid down. He held it up, stomach too unwieldy to allow him to sit up with the pup in his hand. “Here, Ron, feed this one.”

Ron took it and pressed it to a puffy nipple. As they rapidly neared their own due dates, he and Harry had started helping Hermione nurse her last litter. It took some time to stimulate their milk early, but once it started it hadn’t dried back up even a week after the last litter was taken away.

Osti came into the room as Hermione gave birth to what would be the last of her largest litter yet. It shrieked and disappeared, returning moments later with Lucius and Narcissa in tow.

“You horrid things,” Lucius said, hand twitching like he wanted desperately to slap them. Straightened, his lip curled. “Very well. I will inform the Dark Lord of this.”

Voldemort had Lucius call the Death Eater’s inner circle to dinner, as per usual.

“We will leave her barren, for now, so that she may care for the boys,” he said as they ate. “But any of you who wants a turn with her can have it until they give birth. We’ve given her a potion to keep her sterile, for now.”

“We’ll start by taking the plug out,” Lucius said, motioning at Osti and the other elves.

They bent her over the table and strapped her arms down. Pushed her legs up until her knees could rest on two stools, spread wide, her arse forced to cant upwards by the stools’ height. The tail attached to the plug curled between her legs.

Lucius tapped the plug with his wand and the tail went limp. He grasped it and pulled it out.

Hermione hissed; her gaping hole clenched at the empty air. Lube oozed out, kept fresh by whatever spells were on the plug.

“Who’ll have her arse first?” he asked.

The Death Eaters grinned at each other.

~*~

Harry groaned as the contraction worsened. Moved his knees further apart.

“Almost ready, Harry.” Hermione rubbed his calf. “You’re good to push with the next contraction.”

He nodded and let his head fall in the crook of his elbow. His breathing quickened as his body tensed. He pushed. Tears stung his eyes. He let out a series of short, sharp cries as the child breached his sphincter. It burned as it stretched. He screamed and strained, gulping down great breaths of air when the child’s head finally passed all the way through.

“There you go,” she said. “You’re doing so well, Harry. Just a little more.”

He heaved, vaguely feeling her fingers brush against his skin as she pulled on the child to help it along. With a rush of fluids its body slid out.

“A boy,” she said as she cut the umbilical cord.

“As promised, Lucius,” Voldemort said from the table.

“Girl.” Lucius snapped his fingers, glaring at Hermione. “The other child, now.”

Hermione opened her mouth to say something. Clenched her teeth together and gave the baby to the house elf that rushed forward to take it. Ron lay on his side, breathing heavily, eyes tightly closed.

She patted his calf. “How about we see how far along you are, hmm?”

Ron shook his head, nostrils flaring as his body tensed. Screamed as the baby breached, fluids spurting out around it. Blood gushed as the child fell into Hermione’s waiting hands.

“Osti, the replenishing potions before he bleeds out.” Voldemort sank back into his chair triumphantly.

“Give the child to Osti so he can take it to its milkmaid. Its squalling is giving me a headache,” Narcissa said.

Hermione, lips still pressed into a thin line to keep herself from talking, handed the baby to Osti.

“And now,” Voldemort said, sweeping his eyes over his followers as a smile tugged at his lips. “To other business. I’ve decided to let all of you decide what I do with them next. You have two choices; majority wins.”

“You are too generous, My Lord.” Bellatrix fanned herself, eyes wide and crazed as she looked over at the trio.

“What are the choices, Master?” Lucius asked.

“I can either choose three of my most loyal followers—yourself and Draco excluded, of course—to fuck a child into them.” Voldemort paused as the table erupted into whispers. Cleared his throat and narrowed his eyes until the whispers died down. “Or we can go back to my stronghold and watch another supernatural creature breed them. The latter will take less time, as this creature has a naturally short gestation period—less than a month, I’m told, during which time we shall celebrate our victory with feasting and torturing some of our latest captures. But during the nine months of the former, you will be allowed to do whatever you like to them.” He held up a purple potion. “And make them beg for every bit of it, at your leisure.”

“Must we choose only one or the other?” Alecto asked. “I should very much like to see both.”

“As would I, which is why you are choosing which will come to pass first,” Voldemort said.

“Which three followers?” asked Narcissa. “And what creature?”

“The surprise is half the fun, my dear.” Voldemort sneered as he leaned back in his chair. “I’ll give you five minutes to discuss, and then we will vote.”

The table exploded, every Death Eater trying to talk over the rest, pounding their hands and goblets on the table, standing so quickly their chairs fell over.

At the end of the five minutes, Voldemort had only to tap his wand against his goblet three times before the Death Eaters quieted, taking their seats and brushing themselves off as if they hadn’t just been at each other’s throats.

“A show of hands in favor of the creature?” he asked.

Bellatrix’s arm shot up into the air, waving back and forth wildly. It was followed by the majority of the other Death Eaters. Voldemort nodded, clearly pleased by the decision.

“Then it is decided. Let us reconvene at my stronghold,” Voldemort said. “That is where the other half of our upcoming entertainment awaits. I’ve even made a special Floo for the occasion, to save you the long trek from the apparition point.”

The Death Eaters stood and made their way to the fireplace, whispering speculations to each other as to what the creature might be. The consensus seemed to be that Voldemort had finally convinced the kraken to let them watch it fuck more clutches into the trio, but others thought it might be a group of trolls or kappa or possibly even a dragon.

They were all wrong.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The last of the 12 labors of Heracles/Hercules was to capture Cerberus, guardian of the gates of the underworld in Greek/Roman mythology - I figure if you don't know about Heracles'/Hercules' 12 Labors on your own you can look it up, but obviously I'm using the word "labor" in a completely different context than they did. ;)

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry. I tried to warn you.


End file.
